


Next to Me

by Mistflyer1102



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenges [1]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 25,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistflyer1102/pseuds/Mistflyer1102
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thirty moments in a tumultuous relationship between Captain America and Agent Thirteen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Amnesia

Everything hurt.

Sharon Carter wasn’t surprised. 

“If anything, this last mission only proves me right in that whoever is in charge of the Special Ops Department needs to step up the training regimen if they expect the agents to keep up with the Avengers,” Doctor Sanderson said, smugness evident in his tone as he scanned down her chart.  “That or stop putting you all together, that would be even more preferable.”  As usual, his words lacked any bite.

Sharon put it down to the painkillers that she was on as the reason she couldn’t remember what to say next, the next line in the script.  All she did was turn her head to stare blearily at him.

Or maybe it was in the script after all; Sanderson just sighed when she looked at him, made another notation on his clipboard, and then said, “On the plus side, you’ll live.  On the down side, not only will you have to stay here in the medical ward for a week, but I’ll have to sideline you for at least two weeks after that.”

Sharon frowned. 

She should probably be concerned with the fact that Sanderson had become fluent in her facial expressions since it hurt too much for her to talk.  “If this had been an ordinary bullet wound, you would be up and about sooner, yes, _but_ , A.I.M. seemed interested in testing weapons that spit shrapnel, so you’ll be in here longer so that I can ensure that you do not have infections from surgery or anything of the like,” he said, tucking the clipboard underneath his arm so he could study her charts. 

_What happened to me?  Do you remember?_

Sanderson quietly regarded her puzzled expression, and then said, “You don’t remember how you got here, don’t you?”

She managed a very weak shake of the head.

Sighing, Sanderson said, “I don’t know either, just that a mission had gone wrong… I’ll talk to the team leader before I release him, and tell you then if you still want to know.”  Shaking his head, he put the charts back and then looked down at her.  “The buzzer hasn’t moved in the six weeks since your last visit, Agent Thirteen, so I trust you know what to do,” he said.  “I’ll have Mary come by with morphine in a little while, just in case you need it.  I’ll also leave a memo for Phil that you’re in here so the two of you can do your little plotting or whatever it is that you two do when you visit each other down here,” he added over his shoulder before leaving the hospital room.

Sharon relaxed, figuring that she could wait the extra ten to fifteen minutes it would take Coulson to come down here.  The sad thing was that she had his schedule memorized by this point, which was fine because he had hers down too.  They’d unofficially worked out a little system so that the other wouldn’t be completely alone during the hospital stay.  Sanderson knew this; he knew that despite busy schedules, it was always nice to know that there was at least one other friend who cared about the patient.  Sanderson saw it all the time in the med bay; if no one came, he’d come himself.  Besides, Sharon had things to tell Coulson, about the mission.  Coulson always –

_Oh, wait._

Coulson was dead. 

Sharon didn’t cry out, she couldn’t.  Instead, she felt her body sag in the hospital bed a little as a sort of numbness spread to her heart.  Coulson was dead, six feet under, in a private cemetery in his hometown at the request of his remaining family.

That… was a pretty big thing to forget.

At least she didn’t say anything aloud, that would have just been awkward.

She wondered when, if at all, Sanderson would spare a moment to come by.  Maybe since he’d forgotten as well, he wouldn’t come after all.

_All right then…_

She must have drifted off at that point, because when she came back to awareness, her skin burning as she recognized the vague outline of Sanderson hovering over her.  His mouth was moving as he shooed away a nurse nearby and smacked someone else’s hand away from his precious clipboard.  She watched as he silently rattled off orders before he turned back to her, mouth moving noiselessly.  She frowned slightly, not understanding, and Sanderson reached over toward the back of her neck and she felt something sharp prick her skin and her world disappeared again. 

Sharon didn’t wake up until what she estimated was several hours later, the heat under her skin still there but significantly reduced.  _Fever, infection_ , her still somewhat muddled brain supplied helpfully. 

She glanced over at the clock, which read ‘12:30’ in glowing green numbers.  Coulson would probably –

_Stop._

She really had to remember that he was gone now.

This was going to be the longest week ever.

As her senses slowly adjusted to her surroundings, she blearily turned, and frowned when she spotted a vague outline on the chair next to the bed.  Her hand involuntarily twitched as though to reach for the buzzer to call in a nurse – she hated being helpless when a potential enemy was _right there_ – when she became aware that warm skin surrounded her own, skin that wasn’t hers.

The person on the chair must have been either dozing or was accustomed at reacting to even the smallest of movements, because he was moving as soon as the thought to reach the buzzer crossed her mind. 

“Easy, don’t panic, it’s just me,” a soft, familiar male voice said through the darkness.  It took Sharon a few moments to place it.

_Captain America??_

She suddenly remembered that he’d been there in the assault against A.I.M., the one that had landed her here.  Frowning, she watched as he leaned forward, her eyes finally picking out his features from the darkness.  Despite the earlier assurance, he seemed guarded, and she could only wonder at what happened to cause this. 

“Sharon,” he said finally, hesitantly, “Do you remember anything from the mission?”

Did she?  “A…A I M…” she croaked out, her throat hurting from the lack of use. 

“That’s right,” he said in a placating manner, squeezing her hand comfortingly ( _why was he treating her so familiarly?)_.  “What else?”

What else did she remember?  She just raised an eyebrow at him, wishing she could speak more than a couple words in order ascertain the full situation, including as to why he was treating her like one would treat a close friend or girlfriend.  There wasn’t any of that detached professionalism that usually occurred between a subordinate (her, unfortunately) and a superior (obviously him, rank trumps all). 

She wasn’t ready to admit defeat quite yet, but his eyes told her that she was still missing quite a lot.  Okay then, time to try again. 

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

Of course she did.  “Cap…Captain America?” she hedged, remembering the few photographs from her childhood and the countless discussions with Coulson.

Something that seemed a mixture of relief and disappointment crossed his eyes.  _Damn it, what am I missing?_ She thought desperately as the captain leaned back again, but not so much that she couldn’t see him.

“You were with us, your squad had stumbled across an A.I.M. cell two days ago, and then Sergeant Willis called in for backup, and we came.  We got separated, so I didn’t see what happened, but Willis says that you accidentally caught most of the blast from the experimental weapon A.I.M. had, and you hit your head before losing consciousness,” he said finally, and she got the distinct impression that he was staring out the window as he spoke.  “You woke up several times as the doctors treated you, and Sanderson said you were fine when the two of you talked earlier.  Then he found that you had a fever from an unexpected infection, and had to put you under again.  You’ve scared me no less than eight times in the last twelve hours, but then again, you do that on a regular basis.”

He turned to look back at her, and she was pretty sure she was frowning at him.  Offering a sad little half smile, he said, “It’s something we’ve argued about in the past, the level of risk you take in your missions, but I was getting comfortable with the idea of you out on the field until this happened.”

She stared at him, her mind slowly piecing everything together.  She wished she could speak and ask him more about what she was forgetting, but found that it still hurt to talk.  She felt confused, achy, and worst of all, a little afraid.

He squeezed her hand again, whether to comfort himself or her, she didn’t know, but she surprisingly appreciated the gesture.  He started to retract his hand, as though to leave the room or move from his spot, but her hand snaked out and grasped his back in her own.  Her fingers tightened as though asking him to stay.

She may not remember his given name, but she sure as hell didn’t want to be alone… and she couldn’t explain why, but she felt that it was important that he was here.

He seemed to understand that, and her heart lifted at the smile that flitted across his face.


	2. Safe

When he saw that her blue eyes filled with recognition, he knew for sure that the extra bed-rest had been exactly what she needed.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he teased as she blinked awake. 

“Gah, what time is it?” she mumbled back, bumping noses with him by accident.  “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize.”  Steve reached out and wrapped a gentle arm around her waist.  “Do you remember who I am?”

“Steve Rogers, Captain America, friend of Fury’s,” she said, smiling secretly before inching over to lie closer to him, the paper of her hospital gown scratching his bare arm slightly.  She was quiet for a moment, and then she asked, “Why do I get the feeling you’ve asked me that question before?”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, you have an excuse,” Steve replied, reaching over to brush some of her blond hair out of her face and was rewarded with a small, shy smile as she tilted her head toward the pillow as she tried to get comfortable again.  Steve obligingly moved his shoulder so that it was out of the way, but she scowled so he moved back into his original position.  Apparently satisfied, she happily rested her head on his shoulder.  For a moment, neither said anything, just quietly took in each other’s presences.

Finally she caved first, turning her head so that their noses brushed against each other.  Steve gently pulled her closer so that they were gently spooning each other. 

Four weeks.  It had taken her four weeks to slowly remember and him two to earn her trust back again, not that he had done anything to lose it in the first place.  To her, he’d been the interloper in what was apparently a familiar routine between her and Sanderson.  It had taken time for her to adjust and more importantly _remember_ , easing Steve’s fears that Sanderson’s dire predictions of permanent memory loss would come true in the end. 

“I think, once this is all over, we should take time off.  Just a week.  I know this awesome place up in New Hampshire that is fantastic in the summer,” Sharon finally said without opening her eyes.

“You really think the world can hold itself together in one week?” Steve teased lightly.

“Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she?”

“Mm.  True.  Tell me more about this fantastic place of yours.”

He felt rather than saw her laugh, her shoulder jerking softly and warm breath against his neck as she turned her head to place a kiss there.  “Well, it’s up in New Hampshire, Mom and Dad heard about it from a friend, went for a weekend, and then dragged me up for a week ever since then.  I was five years old when they started doing that.  Stopped going once I went to college then, I got a summer job here in New York.  But anyway, it’s this camp in the middle of Lake Winnipesaukee, and the crew there pretty much takes care of you for an entire week.  Food, shelter, the works.  Which leaves us free to do other things.”

“That does sound nice,” Steve agreed, brushing a few strands of her hair from her face.

He felt her skin crinkle into a smirk.  “Did I mention that electronics are not permitted on the island?”

Steve snorted, and she giggled.  “Fury would murder me if I did that to him.

“And Tony wouldn’t last a day,” she agreed sleepily, shifting slightly closer to him.

Steve merely smiled; from what he’d heard, the relationship between Tony and Sharon was something of an odd one, bordering on sibling rivalry and ‘frenemy’.  Mostly because Peggy and Howard had continued to visit each other after the end of the war, and their respective families knew each other very well.  The age difference between Tony and Sharon proved to be both a blessing and a curse, and apparently she no longer saw him after she turned six, and hadn’t thought twice about him since then.  Even now though, the two saw each other as brother and sister, and treated each other as such.

“But we should start saving up on vacation time, then when retirement comes, we just stick it all on the end and leave early,” Sharon said, her eyes fluttering closed.

Steve snorted softly.  “Ready to leave already?”

“Steve, don’t get me wrong, I like what I do.  It’s just that I’d like to retire with all my limbs intact.  Nick Fury is the oldest agent I know, but he’s missing an eye.  An _eye_.  If the greatest superspy in the history of _ever_ walks away from his career with a missing eye, then what chance do I have of keeping my, oh, I don’t know, my hand?”

“I think that’s the painkillers talking now.  You were doing excellent before, and you still are now,” Steve said.  “I’ll do you the favor of not repeating this when you’re lucid.”

“Thanks, I think?”

“You’re welcome.”

There was another moment of silence between them.  “How old are you?” she finally asked.

Steve blinked, unsure of where that came from.  Then he remembered their prior discussion.  “Are you about to compare me to Fury?” he asked.  “Because if you are, remember that I cheated.”

“Steve, Fury’s middle name is ‘Cheater’.  How old are you?”

“My career is nowhere as far along as Fury’s.”

A warning elbow rested near his gut, just below his ribcage.  “How old are you?”

“Twenty – nine.  I think.  Birthdays and ages aren’t that important on the battlefield.”

Silence, and then, “ _Hell,_ that’s young.”

“You’re one to talk.  How old are you?”

Sharon snorted, and snuggled closer as he pulled her closer.  “I’ll be nice to you, Captain, and point out that the only reason I haven’t hurt you yet is because you don’t know that the three things you must _never_ ask a woman is her age, weight, and how much she makes,” she said crossly.

Steve decided not to point out that he could still easily find that all out just by asking Sanderson to see her medical records. 

“What in God’s name are you two _doing?”_

_Damn._

Speak of the devil, and it shall appear.

Sharon jumped at Sanderson’s sharp voice, and Steve looked up sharply to see the incensed doctor at the doorway.  A nurse outside the door was trying very hard not to start giggling at Sanderson’s flabbergasted expression. 

“Oh, shut up Sanderson!  I asked him to lie down on the bed with me because I wanted to be close to him and I was cold!” Sharon snapped, becoming fully awake as she turned to glare daggers at the doctor.  “We’re just _cuddling_!  Besides, we both know that this isn’t the worst scenario you’ve walked in on a patient before!  At least he’s wearing clothes!”

Sanderson flushed scarlet (from embarrassment, anger or both Steve didn’t know and most certainly didn’t want to find out) as the nurse behind him burst into laughter.  Sharon smirked before turning back down and squirming briefly to get comfortable again.  Steve kissed her gently on the cheek before easing her off of him.  Mindful of the guardrail behind him, he slipped out of the hospital bed, (destroying the warm cocoon the two of them had underneath the thin hospital blankets) and grabbed his jacket.  Sanderson muttered something incoherent as he noted the clear evidence that Steve was still in his regular jeans and white T-shirt. 

“Don’t you have work to do?” Sanderson suddenly barked at the nearby nurse, who could only clutch onto the edge of the desk as she continued laughing.

“Why do I suspect there’s a story behind that?” he whispered to Sharon as he pulled the blankets back up to cover her.

“All you need to know is that Tony was involved,” she said.  “And Sanderson won’t tend to him anymore, so Miller is Tony’s primary S.H.I.E.L.D. physician now.”

“Gotcha.”  Steve put his shoes back on.  “I’ll come back in a couple hours.”

“Mm, okay.  Love you,” she said, turning her head long enough to accept another kiss from him.

“Love you too, Sharon,” he said before leaving the hospital room.


	3. Tetris

Despite the fact that Sanderson had held true to his threat and sidelined her, Sharon still found that Fury hadn’t revoked her security clearance so she could ‘recover’.

Which meant that she could camp out in the briefing room to her leisure.

At the moment though, Fury was prepping the team for a _stealth_ raid on a suspected Hydra base, in the first of what was going to be six meetings.  MI6 were expected to provide the fireworks that would cover S.H.I.E.L.D.’s presence in the area, and, assuming everything went according to plan, no twitchy secret agents would have to meet each other on the field. 

_Too much firepower in too little of a space._

Sharon hadn’t had that sort of encounter before, but her old superior officer, Sergeant Brian Willis had except with the C.I.A.  It had been an experience not worth repeating, especially since it included a hospital trip after for everyone.

“Remember, when you get to the first rendezvous point, you’ll want to keep an eye out for two agents from the MI6, their ID numbers should be 006 and 007.  Try not to start something by accident,” Fury said, looking back down to the manila folders in front of him on the table.  He frowned, looked up, and then said, “Stark, what did I just say?”

Sharon (as well as a few others) turned to see Tony straightening in his seat.  “ID the two Brits, try not to piss them off,” he recited with a smirk.

“Lucky guess.  You’re already on the way to disobeying the first thing I just said not to do,” Fury snapped before turning back to the aerial map of Nepal.  “So then from there, you’ll want to –”

Sharon glanced back at Tony, and frowned when she saw that he and Steve had their heads bowed as though studying the papers in front of them.  What tipped her off that they were up to mischief however was Steve’s perplexed expression, the one he got whenever Tony was showing him a new trick with the smartphone that all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents equipped with.  Briefly checking to make sure that Fury was still distracted, she leaned over and gently nudged Steve’s foot with her own.

It didn’t work.

_All right…_

Mindful of the fact that since Steve was technically on the clock while she wasn’t, she leaned over close enough to hiss, “What are you doing?”

“Shh,” Tony replied, putting a finger to his mouth before pointing to Fury.  “Pay attention.”

Sharon’s mouth dropped open.  “I’m not even going!” she whispered back.

“Thirteen, please pay attention,” Hill said, and Sharon swore she heard Tony snickering as she whipped around to focus on the formidable Maria Hill.  “You will be working with three MI6 techs as S.H.I.E.L.D.’s liaison.  It’s not fieldwork, but it’s still important.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sharon sighed, and then told herself to focus on Fury and Fury alone. 

She gave up two seconds later.

Turning again, she saw Tony leaning over and examining something Steve had in hand.  She decided to cut to the chase this time, and not so gently kicked Steve under the table, managing to land the kick on his shin.

He jumped and looked around in alarm, Tony flinching as he did.  Sharon surmised that the smartphone must have nearly fallen out of Steve’s hands, but since Tony hadn’t cried out, it was a good call to say that the phone was saved.

Steve meanwhile noticed that she was watching him.  He raised an eyebrow, and mouthed, _What now?_

 _Pay attention!_ She mouthed back, jerking with her head toward Fury’s presentation.

Tony decided to butt in.  _Are we all in sixth grade again or something?_ he inquired, making his best impression of the innocent victim.

Sharon swelled up to insult him back when –

“Agent Thirteen, please pay attention.  I’m not going to tell you again,” Hill said, and Sharon cringed while Tony began shaking with silent laughter.

Fury however seemed to decide to just cut to the chase.  “Everyone, all electronic items in the center of the table.  Now,” he said, glowering at Tony, who smirked before passing over his phone and earpiece, Steve pushing a phone across the table after him.  Phones, pagers, an iPod and a few other odds and ends appeared on the table, and then once everyone had placed their electronic items on the table, Fury leaned over and pulled it all towards him.  “You can all pick it up at the end of the meeting,” he said, picking up Clint’s phone to examine the Angry Birds screen before exiting the game. 

Sharon didn’t dare talk to Steve until the end of the meeting.

“What was so damn important that you weren’t paying attention?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was showing him the wonders of Tetris.  Can you believe he’s never played a video game and he’s been here for almost a year now?” Tony said as he walked past the two of them.

Sharon just sighed, but allowed Steve to pull her into a hug.

 _I guess boys will be boys_ , she thought tiredly.

Even if they did save the world more than once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was Gaming/Watching a movie.
> 
> Went with gaming. During a meeting. Which I know they'd never actually do, but suspension of disbelief here?


	4. Date

Because of his lack of luck with girls when he was younger, and then the war after the experiment, Steve Rogers had had not much experience with the stereotypical date with a girl who actually liked him for who he was.

But asking a girl out in the middle of a _war zone_ was something he didn’t do in the forties either.

And Sharon apparently wasn't a stereotypical girl either.

“ _You’ll want to keep an eye on the conduits near the south entrance, apparently the traffickers like to sneak the goods through those,_ ” Sharon said, her voice crackly through Steve’s earpiece.  “ _Tony, I’m talking to you.”_

“ _How come I don’t get a cool number or codename like everyone else?  Even Cap gets one,_ ” Tony replied over the mike. 

“ _Is it always like this with him?”_ an unfamiliar British – accented voice asked.

“ _Fury likes to keep him happy because he’s supplied S.H.I.E.L.D. with all sorts of fancy stuff over the years.  A happy Tony means more fancy stuff_ ,” Sharon replied, her voice slightly faint as she pulled the mike down to talk to her neighbor.

Steve just shook his head as he remained at his post, scanning the back entrance for threats.  He was waiting for the signal to move in while Agent 005 from MI6 was going to provide cover fire if necessary (the MI6 handlers had stressed the _if necessary_ part so much that Steve couldn’t help but feel a little wary of the apparently calm man next to him, and he had heard down the grapevine that 005 had switched places with 007 at the last minute because of the latter’s apparent fondness for explosions). 

“What is the current status?” he murmured into the mike, noting the slight movement near the door.

“ _Almost ready._ ” Sharon paused, and then said, “ _It’s been a while since I’ve done a stealth mission, this is actually kind of fun._ ”

“ _We haven’t fully started yet, we are just securing the perimeter,”_ a second voice cut in.  “ _Once Agent 006 is finished, I’ll give the signal._ ”

There was a snort somewhere on the link, and a faint growl in response.  Steve heard a click, and then Sharon said, “ _I’ve just switched us to a private channel, that was the MI6 quartermaster.  Apparently he and my coworker here aren’t on good terms, something about inter-office rumors.”_

Steve snorted softly.  “I was just about to ask about that,” he said.

“ _Yeah, and explosions isn’t the only thing Agent 007 is fond of around the tech branch of the MI6, according to my new BFF,”_ Sharon replied, and he could almost picture her rolling her eyes. 

“Sounds like they have a blast,” Steve replied, still monitoring the entrance.  Next to him, 005 coughed as though to cover up a snort.  Steve wrote it off as unimportant.  “Are you still monitoring the signal?”

“ _Yes, dear,” _came the dry response.  There was a moment of silence, and then “ _All right, now be quiet when you go in._ ”  There was a faint click as she switched over to the main channel, and then said, “ _Agent 005, the two gentlemen from MI6 are a little distracted here with activity to the northeast.  Please keep the way clear, and only fire if necessary.”_

“Of course, ma’am,” 005 replied smoothly, adjusting his position so that he could get a better aim.  Steve began to climb over the rocky outcropping, and was starting to scale down the rock face when 005 suddenly said, “ _Will you perhaps be available later tonight?  After the mission?”_

“ _Something you should know about me, Agent 005, is that I don’t do inter – agency relationships.  Come work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and we can negotiate,”_ Sharon said, and Steve easily recognized the undertone of irritation in her voice. 

“ _Is this the part where I can contribute to the conversation?”_ Tony cut in over the link.

Sharon groaned over the link, earning snickers from Tony.  “ _For the love of God, just everyone shut up and let me focus so I don’t accidentally send Rogers into an easily avoidable deathtrap,”_ she snapped.  There was a click as she switched back to a private link.  “ _This is a battlefield, not high school!  What’s gotten into everyone now_?” she seethed.

“Tell you what, I’ll tell you after the mission,” Steve said, silently using the edge of the disguised shield to rip off the rusted locks. 

“ _I look forward to that,”_ Sharon replied.  “ _Now please focus.”_

The rest of the mission went off without a hitch.

As predicted, the base is full of traffickers preparing for the next move of their illegal cargo of drugs.  Apparently, they’d been expecting (and preparing for) a full – scale MI6 or C.I.A. invasion of the base, but S.H.I.E.L.D.’s presence threw them for a loop.  The leader attempted to escape only to run into MI6 agents, namely 006 and 005, and backtracked in his second bid for freedom only to run smack dab into Steve, who easily flipped him over and knocked the man out in the process.

While everyone was relieved that it was a painless mission for once, Steve couldn’t help but be wary of the overall simplicity of the success.  Still, he managed a tired smile for Sharon, who approached him in the makeshift medical tent at the joint camp a few miles from the base. 

“Well, that was fun.  It would have been more entertaining if I hadn’t been sidelined, but Sanderson actually called me in the middle of the battle to double – check that I wasn’t participating.  That’s why I had to transfer you to Q without warning you,” she said, taking a warm damp cloth from a nearby basin and then kneeling so she could start cleaning a forehead cut that Steve hadn’t even realized was there.

“ ‘Q’?” Steve repeated, confused.

“Quartermaster of the MI6.  One could argue that he’s the handler for the double – ohs, someone has to keep them in check,” Sharon said, shrugging as she made him hold the cloth so she could grab some proper gauze.

“You seem to know a lot about this agency,” Steve commented, trying to keep any incriminating emotions out of his tone.

“That’s because Aunt Peggy knows M, the boss.  Or so she says,” Sharon replied.

“You know, we are in France, and last I checked, we’re not in a rush,” Steve remarked in what he hoped was a casual tone.

Sharon grinned.  “I like that line of thinking.  I’ve always been particularly fond of Paris,” she added. 

“Paris?  I like Paris,” Tony said, suddenly appearing at her side.

“You’re not invited,” Sharon said without looking up from her work.

“Aw, come on!  Why not?” Tony said, purposefully leaning over her shoulder to examine her work.  “You missed a spot.”

“Tony, don’t get her mad,” Steve said, frowning.

“It’s a date.  As in, two people, specifically me and Steve,” Sharon replied.

Tony snorted.  “This one didn’t make the cut?” he asked, leaning against an immobile cart.

“What do you mean, ‘this one’?” Steve asked, sounding as confused as Sharon probably looked.

Tony gestured vaguely around the medical tent.  “This mission wasn’t a date?  It fit the qualifications.  You two flirted, argued, had an unwanted third party, and now this is the forgiveness/make up stage.  A date.”

Sharon turned to face Tony.  “I don’t know what consists of a date for you, but that is _not_ how I usually see dates,” she said icily.

“Really?  I thought we were having fun,” Steve replied mildly, looking innocently back at her when she turned to face him.

Sharon sighed.  “I guess I can make an exception this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two questions for readers:
> 
> 1\. Do you like the overarching storyline, or would you rather the oneshots were random?
> 
> 2\. Is it 'MI6' or 'MI-6'? Which is the proper way to spell it?
> 
> Also, I promise to stop writing/posting these at the last minute. It is a little busy on my end though, that's all.


	5. Kiss

Sharon had been sixteen years old when she got her first kiss.

It hadn’t been anything special, just a quick peck on the lips as though testing to see whether she and the boy, Aaron, really wanted to date each other as much they claimed they did.  They’d been behind the bleachers, watching the school football team practicing just because Aaron had missed his bus and Sharon was waiting for her mother to pick her up.

(Nothing ever came out of it after the kiss; Aaron suddenly realized that he was in fact not interested in dating her, and she saw him hanging off the arm of the queen bee at school the very next day, and figured she’d never had a chance in the first place).

Her next kiss came during her first week of working for S.H.I.E.L.D; a higher – ranked agent, Neil Tapper, had noticed her and gently pursued her as long as her superior officer at the time, Sergeant Brian Willis, didn’t notice the two of them doing this.  That had also been her first serious relationship, although even in foresight she’d known that dating a coworker (never mind a superior officer) had been on the list of Top Ten Bad Ideas.  She’d gone ahead with it anyway.

The first of many field incidents that left her sidelined ended her time with Neil.  There had been no backlash, the two simply pretended that the other didn’t exist, and Fury, who saw everything despite all eyepatch jokes and numerous attempts at discretion, reacted by simply keeping the two apart during field missions with no fuss.

Sharon thought she’d learned the lesson of not dating coworkers then.

Maybe that’s why she and Steve got off on the wrong foot.

She’d ignored him for the first few weeks after New York, even though Aunt Peggy had in fact confirmed that it was the real Steve Rogers, Sharon always gave him a wide berth perhaps in a subconscious decision to protect herself.  That didn’t stop Fury from putting the two on a mission together (really the Avengers and a reinforcement squad), and Sharon had increased the (un)expected tension between the two of them by easily trading banter with Tony, who at the time had been figuring out the best way to surprise Pepper for Valentine’s Day. 

“How’s this, if you knew you were going to be meeting up with your childhood crush on Valentine’s Day, what would you want him to do for you?” Tony asked casually, glancing over his shoulder.

“Hm, I’d want him to surprise me, but with nothing over the top fancy.  Just the fact that he’s there for me is good enough,” she’d replied, smiling lazily at him before turning her poker hand over, folding in the interest of keeping what little she had of her paycheck at that point. 

“C’mon Sharon, be a little creative!  Give me some ideas,” Tony had whined.

“Okay, well, what’s wrong with showing her that you’re there for her?  That would be especially important for me because I know that since Capt-” her mouth clamped shut when she realized just barely in time what she’d been about to say in front of not only her old team but the Avengers. 

Tony pretended to look confused.  “Sorry, what?”

“Oh, shut up,” she’d snapped before going back to the game, her face burning. 

Captain America was not an idiot; that was something they all knew.  It didn’t help that Tony apparently (helpfully) answered the captain’s questions since he’d been completely confused by the conversation earlier. 

Sharon _might_ have fibbed a little in her debriefing report after the mission, saying that Tony took risks where there hadn’t been any and that the damage to the Quinjet was due to a design failure rather than the Hydra anti – aircraft weaponry.  Fury evidently saw right through it anyway when Tony tried to do the same thing to her on his report, and made sure they _both_ got into trouble for their efforts.

She and Steve hadn’t talked since then because she’d been giving him a wide berth so she wouldn’t have to own up to what she’d said about her ‘childhood crush’.  Then Fury seemed irritated at this behavior, and stuck the two of them on a mission together, one that required stealth ( _silence_ ), and Sharon found herself dealing with not only bad guys but Captain America’s well – intentioned inclination to protect her (that was going to be a recurring theme in their relationship).

In the end, it was adrenaline rush that did them both in.

Well, her at least.  She had no idea what Steve was thinking at the time.

They’d been near the smoking (once) underground bunker after routing out both Hydra and A.I.M. soldiers, and setting the charges and getting out in the time had been the most nerve – wracking thing Sharon had ever done in her S.H.I.E.L.D. career (explosives were Willis’s specialties, no one challenged him when he was on a mission with bombs). 

She couldn’t help it.  Despite the near constant bickering for the last seven days and the constant risky situations, she felt the relief bubble up through her lungs and out her throat in the form of giggles, and she’d let herself sink down to the ground to her knees, laughing and crying all at the same time because she was _alive_ after numerous attempts on her life.

Steve had rested his hand on her shoulder, out of concern or something else she didn’t know, but the sudden urge to look up at him had been overwhelming.  It had been something in his startling blue eyes, something amidst the relief that he (they?) were still alive and the confusion as to the apparent humor. 

Reaching up to him and pulling him down for a kiss seemed natural and easy.  He hadn’t resisted, he could have easily shaken her off if he wanted to, but he hadn’t returned the sentiment.

Panic quickly replaced relief, and she pulled away from him.  The rest of the flight home was painfully awkward, with her not knowing what to say and him being as stoic as he usually was after a completed mission.  Every time she turned to say something, she would remember that 1) there was a painfully large age gap between the two of them, and 2) he still missed his first love from the Second World War.

Sharon wanted to crawl into a hole and _die_.

Or maybe do the less extreme reaction and never come out of that hole unless Fury absolutely needed her.

It wasn’t until they were about to part ways for debriefing that he pulled her wrist, gently tugging her back and kissing her lightly before letting her go so they could go back to their respective debriefings. 

She’d been left standing in the hall, briefly stunned, but somehow she knew that despite the trouble their respective careers would bring, everything was going to be all right in the very end.


	6. Clothes

Sunlight streaming through parted curtains woke Steve up from sleep.  Turning slightly, he was dismayed to find that his companion had already gotten up, and was gone long enough for her side of the bed to grow cold.  Stretching, he sat up and stretched, noting that both of their clothes from the day before were still strewn about the bedroom, except his T-shirt was missing. 

Wait…

Frowning, he leaned forward and looked around the floor at the various articles of clothing.  He remembered feeling vaguely worried that his T-shirt wasn’t going to survive the night when it was taken off (Sharon wasn’t as careful about that sort of thing as he’d like, but then again, they’d both been still on an adrenaline high last night, so maybe he could let it slide this one time). 

Despite the socks, shirt (hers, he recognized the logo on the breast pocket), pants and other articles of clothing that should technically be on their owner if Sharon was up already, he couldn’t find the SSR T-shirt that someone had procured for him after he’d woken up from his coma in the ice. 

Sighing, he got out of bed and knelt down to look underneath the bed for the missing T-shirt. 

There was nothing but dust bunnies under there.

Getting up, he decided to just find Sharon and ask her if she’d seen it anywhere.  He was on his way out when he spotted her baggy (on her anyway) NY sweatshirt.  Not wanting to walk around their apartment shirtless (last time he did, Fury of all people had stopped by to talk, that had been extremely awkward), he grabbed Sharon’s sweatshirt and slipped it on, pleased to find that it fit him just fine.

Padding out into the living room, he found Sharon in the small kitchen, already cooking breakfast.  A smile tugged on the side of his face when he noted her attire… well, what little she was wearing anyway.  But what especially caught his eye was her wrinkled T-shirt, notably too large for her smaller frame. 

He made sure he made some noise approaching the kitchen; S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were notoriously sensitive about other people sneaking up on them from any direction, and Sharon was no exception.  Field and Special Ops agents took that paranoia a step farther, always possessing some kind of weapon on their person even when in the mess hall.  While Steve had been careful not to fall victim to startling one of them, he did see the results of when an unlucky technician had approached Sergeant Brian Willis from behind, only to nearly get clocked in the head with the butt of a pistol that had come out of nowhere.  Only practiced reflexes saved the man a trip to the medical bay.

No one dared sneak up on Natasha, Clint, and Steve, even by accident.  Apparently all it took for the lesson to sink in when it came to those three was an incident that happened three years before Steve woke up.  Armand, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s primary quartermaster, had forgotten and approached Natasha without warning, and _did_ end up in the infirmary for a week.  If she could take down a stocky man like Armand and incapacitate him for a week, there was no telling what she could do to an unlucky, skinny technician. 

“You going to stand there all morning, or are you going to get food, coffee, or both?” Sharon asked, bringing Steve back to earth.

“I might just stand here all morning, the view’s pretty nice where I am,” Steve replied as he walked up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.  Leaning his chin on her shoulder, he whispered, “What’s for breakfast?”

She laughed and leaned her head against him for a moment.  “Eggs and bacon just because I felt like it,” she replied before looking back down at the pans in question.  “No matter what Tony says, I can cook,” she said.

“I never questioned your cooking abilities, I just asked about breakfast.” Leaning closer, he whispered, “You wouldn’t happen to know where my T – shirt went off to, would you?”

“The SSR one that you had last night?” Sharon asked, a smile twitching at the edge of her lips.

“Mm-hmm.”

“It found a temporary new owner because its real owner was still snoozing and it looked lonely on the floor,” Sharon said as Steve gently kissed the back of her neck.  “Besides, you have my sweatshirt, fair’s fair.”

“Turnabout is fair play,” Steve said, grinning as he rested his forehead against the back of her head.  “Besides, it’s warm.”

“And yours is comfortable,” she replied as she turned the bacon over.

“Fair enough.”  Steve moved to stand beside her, taking in the heady scent of the fresh food.  “Do you need help?” he asked.

“Not with cooking, I’m almost done.  Could you get plates and utensils though?  You know where they are,” she said, winking before going back to the food.

Steve only smiled before doing as she asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than usual, but still fluffy. Prompt was: Wearing each other's clothes.
> 
> Such imaginative chapter titles, I've noticed ;)


	7. Disguise

“ _Carter, that’s cheating if I ever saw it.”_

“Shut up,” Sharon snapped into her mike.  Although she couldn’t see him, she knew Sergeant Willis was rolling his eyes at her tone.  “You know, I could just ask Tony for the goddamn data plans,” she added irritably.

“There’s no fun in that.  Besides, Director Fury doesn’t want Stark getting involved.”

 _“You just wanted to see the two of us get into these godforsaken costumes,”_ Sharon’s teammate, Agent 56, growled from her mike.

 _“If it’s any consolation, I can’t see you guys since I’m stuck in that stupid stereotypical white van on the edge of the stupid parking lot_ ,” Willis shot back.

“Yes, we know because we had to walk across said stupid parking lot in these skimpy costumes,” Sharon said irritably.  “Now both of you; please shut up.  Amy, we have to smile for the cameras in a few minutes, so please don’t look like the only dancer with an attitude problem.  And Willis, we can’t talk onstage because we have to pretend like there aren’t earbuds and microphones on our persons.”

“I can’t believe we had to learn a dance like that in order to steal one piece of stupid data from Tony Stark.  Why can’t he and Fury ever play nice?” Amy (Agent 56) grumbled as she joined Sharon.  She was wearing an identical Iron-Man-themed dance costume as Sharon; the two were to use their status as ‘dancers’ to sneak into Tony’s private prep area to steal a flashdrive he’d been lording over Fury for the last few weeks.  Tony meanwhile would hopefully be way too distracted with running his newest Expo and making sure that nothing bad happened, and he’d never notice the theft until it was too late.  Both women had dyed their hair to ‘switch’ colors; Sharon was now a brunette and Amy was a (rather grumpy at the moment) blond. 

Luckily, Steve was going to be out for the next couple days: he and Clint were supposed to be in Chicago in order to assist the F.B.I. with a sensitive retrieval mission.  Tony of course was going to be busy as well, and Sharon had texted Pepper with a financial snarl that had just come up (Fury, for the first time in years, allowed his technicians to wreak (repairable) havoc on Stark’s account enough to keep Pepper busy for a little while, theoretically leaving the flashdrive unguarded).

But first, she and Amy had to do the opening number for Iron Man’s entrance to the Expo, a similar act he did in the last one (before Vanko wreaked havoc on it as well). 

“My dignity shall never recover from this,” Amy moaned as she and Sharon stood next to each other as they waited for the curtain to go up.

“It’s all right, we’re in disguise and we even switched hair color.  Stop worrying,” Sharon muttered back.  “If anything, I should be worried because I have two left feet and Tony knows that very well.”

“You seemed to do fine in practice,” Amy said worriedly.

“That’s because half of the time I wasn’t where you or the teacher could see me,” Sharon retorted, getting into the line and striking the waiting pose that the other women seemed to have.  “Now shut up and dance.”

“Hon, as long as you don’t trip me then, I will not kill you for making me do this later,” Amy replied as she got behind Sharon.  The two were at the end of the line, so they could do the opening number to get close to Tony’s trailer, and then slip away during his speech. 

“Whatevs, just smile and wave,” Sharon replied through clenched teeth as the curtain went up.

“For the record, this is all your fault,” Amy whispered furiously before the music began, successfully getting in the last word.

The performance, at least for the two women, had mixed results.  Sharon stumbled toward the end, nearly falling off the stage, but thankfully a lot of the audience members were distracted by Tony’s conveniently timed grand entrance (a usual grandiose affair that involved fireworks this year), so she felt that she got away scot – free, a rare occurrence whenever Tony Stark was involved.

“You _idiot_!” Amy snapped once the two of them snuck off – stage.  “What would I have done if you’d gone and broken your leg falling down like that?  Especially since you look like me?”

“Play it off as a miracle recovery?  You would have been fine, finishing the mission alone.  I’m the one who would have been in the awkward position since the media’s attention would have gone from Tony to me instead, and Fury would have been scrambling to cover up the fact that he sent agents in while Tony was investigating as to why there was a bad dancer on stage,” Sharon said, shrugging.

“ _And Riley and I would have tucked tail and run while we still could,”_ Willis said through their earpieces, causing both women to jump.  “ _But, seeing as you’re technically still in enemy territory, I suggest you get moving._ ”

“Pushy,” Amy remarked as the two walked through the darkened backstage to the other side, where hopefully they would find the flashdrive and get moving.  Once the two of them were near their destination, Amy reached out and stopped Sharon.

“You go in, you know him better,” she whispered, glancing anxiously back at the stage.  “He’s less likely to kill you if you’re caught.”

“Geez, thanks for that vote of confidence,” Sharon muttered before climbing into the trailer, Amy moving to stand outside the door.

It was empty, as Sharon knew it would be, but it was still an unbelievable _mess_.  Muttering to herself, she delicately stepped around the numerous piles of junk, her S.H.I.E.L.D. training forcing her to keep to the visible carpet as she tried to avoid traps. 

Tony’s desk, unsurprisingly, was the cleanest thing in that trailer.  Frowning, she tensed when she realized that the lone desk drawer was unlocked, something slightly out of character for Tony.

She realized why less than a second later, when she opened the drawer.

A small note was taped to the bottom.  In familiar pencil handwriting, it read:

_Nice try._

_Damn it Tony!_

“ _Any dice?”_ Willis asked worriedly a second later, making Sharon realize that he was still on the line and she’d spoken aloud. 

“No, none at all.  He’s probably got it in his pocket, he’s not stupid,” she said.  “Amy is going to be unhappy that we have to get closer.”

There was a momentary silence on Willis’s end.  “ _Yeah, let’s go with that,”_ he said, and Sharon narrowed her eyes in suspicion. 

“Where is she?” Sharon asked warily.

“ _Outside, from what she said._ ”

Wishing that the damn costume came with a pocket or hidden holster, Sharon reached over and took Tony’s paperweight of the Eiffel Tower.  Just in case.  Then she turned and retraced her steps through the minefield that was Tony’s prep trailer.

“Amy?” she whispered as she crept out of the trailer; it had gotten considerably darker since their venture started, and her colleague was nowhere in sight.  “ _Amy!”_ she whispered louder.

Silence.

Swallowing nervously, and gripping the paperweight tighter, Sharon slipped out of the trailer, feeling horribly exposed.  She was going to kill Amy for ditching her like this, after all had been said and done.  She wondered who was out to kill Tony this week, and then hoped that whoever it was hadn’t gotten to Amy, or Amy did Tony the rare favor and took care of the threat.  “Willis, where is Amy?”

“ _Around, she said she heard voices near the trailer.  Keep an eye and ear out for trouble.”_

“Right,” Sharon whispered back, noting a moving shadow not too far from her, just disappearing behind a tree.  “Data’s not where it’s supposed to be, I think Pepper has it,” she said, grip tightening around the useless paperweight. 

“ _I wouldn’t know.  Just get out of there, I think that at least one of the spooks are still there, I can’t tell for sure since they’re used an EMP to block all but basic radio –”_

“Willis?”Sharon whispered in horror as his voice dissolved into complete static.

She didn’t get a chance to react further; the shadow that had been sneaking up on her was suddenly at her side, the paperweight out of her hand and gone.  Panicked, she turned and tried to punch her assailant, but the shadow easily sidestepped her and drove an elbow into her back.  Before she could fall however, the attacker grasped her wrist and kept her other arm pinned against her back, steadying her.

“Who… who the hell are you?” she growled, struggling.

Then she froze when she recognized the feel of the material of her attacker’s wrist guards.

“ _Clint?”_ she hissed, tensing up even more.  “My God, I am going to _murder_ you once I –”

“I’ll make a note to pass along the message,” Steve’s familiar voice said behind her.  “But we’re here to help you, not hurt you.”

A million questions may have gone through Sharon’s head, but she only voiced one aloud.  “Why the hell are you wearing Clint’s uniform?”

“Because we switched uniforms to confuse Tony long enough to assist you and your teammate… who disappeared when I arrived,” Steve said, letting her go.  She scowled when she turned around to find him looking her over.  “Although I see I’m not the only one who is in the wrong uniform.”

Sharon reflexively glanced down at her dancing costume, and crossed her arms.  “Jealous?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“No, just thinking that I usually prefer you in red, white and blue, not red and gold,” he replied with such a straight face that she had to do a double-take, just to make sure it was the same Steve Rogers. 

“I thought you went to Chicago…” she began slowly.

“It was a farce, to make Tony lower his guard enough to let Fury slip S.H.I.E.L.D. agents into the Expo to get that data,” Steve explained, stepping back far enough so Sharon could see the slightly ill – fitting uniform.  “But, as he’s about to find out, once he sees that Natasha switched places with Pepper, we should probably get going.”

“One more question, can you fire a bow?” Sharon asked as she began to follow Steve.

“Clint wouldn’t let me get remotely close to it, which is fine.  I wasn’t going to let him touch the shield,” Steve replied as the two began to run back toward the Expo itself.

“Which means that Tony will catch on that much faster.  Let’s go, I don’t even know where the data is,” Sharon said.

“Pepper has it, still does.  Now let’s go before we’re caught.”


	8. Shop

“I warned you.”

“Yes, yes you did.

“But you didn’t listen to me.”

Steve gave Tony a withering glance.  “When was the last time I actually listened to you and followed what you said?” he asked patiently.

Tony sighed.  “I was just testing the effects of reverse psychology on you, it didn’t matter in the end because you usually do whatever you want anyway.”

“Tony, I’m used to being a test subject.  Testing me _in the middle of a mission_ was my primary issue with what you did,” Steve said, frowning as he stretched his back, which was somewhat stiff from the morning’s activities.  The plastic chair he was sitting on didn’t help matters either.  “Anyway, it was my idea that Sharon do this, she was spending so much time on the battlefield, I was worried she’d miss doing this.  Or whatever it was that girls did for fun.”

Tony groaned.  “It was _your_ idea?  And here I thought Sharon’s second X gene had finally caught up to the rest of her when she called Pepper the other night about coming here to the Manhattan Mall.  Well, at least it isn’t around Christmas time, this place usually gets mobbed then,” he said. 

“Then you called me, to warn me about carrying the shopping bags.  At that point, I was willing to go along with Sharon.”  Glancing around the room, Steve added, “This definitely wasn’t around when I was still living New York, back before I joined the army.”

“Rogers, I’m just shocked you didn’t know about McDonalds.  Please don’t frighten me further,” Tony replied.

“How many times do I have to tell you?  McDonalds already existed the forties, but were on the west coast and didn’t start expanding until the fifties,” Steve said.  Glancing around, he lowered his voice and said, “And speaking of frightening thoughts, does Natasha find shopping to be ‘fun’?”

Tony choked on his soda and Steve straightened, fighting back a smirk.  “Okay, didn’t I just say _not_ to frighten me further?” Tony said, grinning now.  “Although… she might actually like it here anyway.  Best place to practice sniping individuals in a crowd.  Not lethally or anything, but with like paintball or something.”

“Careful, one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. sergeants might get an idea, and the rest of us have to pay for it,” Tony warned, moving some of the shopping bags from the seat next to him to the ground. 

“Technically you could dodge out of it, since you’re a ‘civilian’ and Fury hates dealing with your nonsense,” Steve pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I can’t dodge out of this.  This hasn’t happened yet, but I just _know_ that at some point the girls are going to try something on and require our ‘honest’ feedback,” Tony warned.  “Just as a heads-up.”

“I’ve already done that several times.  Sharon has this little clothing place she likes to go to on Saturdays, and while she doesn’t always buy something each time, she definitely likes to model whatever’s caught her eye,” Steve replied, shrugging. 

“Yeah, but do you tell her when something looks awful on her?” Tony said, frowning.  “And how the hell did you get the patience for something like that?”

“As crazy as this might sound, it’s something I learned from the battlefield.  You have to pay attention to what people are wearing and how they carry themselves sometimes, whether it’s the enemy or your own guy.  You wouldn’t believe how many Germans thought they could get away with impersonating Allied officers,” Steve said, shrugging.  “Watching them requires waiting and patience.  As for being honest, well, of course I tell her what I think of it, not what I think she should wear.  She has her style, I have mine.  I suppose another part of it is that she has her own opinions, and listens to those more than she listens to me.”

The two were silent for a few more minutes.  “How the hell am I supposed to compete with that answer?” Tony finally asked, grinning at Steve before glancing away again.  Checking his watch, he muttered, “How long does it take to pick out a _skirt_?”

“Hm?” Steve asked, glancing at Tony.

“Pepper needs a skirt for a PR thing she’s doing for me.  She was the one who suggested that we wait here at the food court while she and Sharon went into the store,” Tony said.  “How long does it really take to pick out one skirt?”

“A while.  When Sharon was invited to her cousin’s wedding a few months ago, she spent three weeks trying to figure out three outfits.  One for the ceremony, one for the reception, and one for the next day,” Steve said, grimacing at the memory.  “She was doing fine until I asked her if the ceremony was going to be in a church, which it was, and she had to change one of the outfits.”

“Yeah, well, a wedding I can understand.  It’s one of the few important family social events that tells everyone else ‘Hey, I haven’t screwed up yet!’ since you’re clearly at the party.  Wait until she has to bring you to something like that.  Then it’s going to be a lot of posturing on top of everything else.”

“Actually, we’ve been to one of those already.  Peggy invited her and her parents out to London to have tea with some old friends, and Sharon begged me to come with them.  Couldn’t say no,” Steve said, scanning the crowd out of habit for any signs of trouble.  “Friends were really nice though, two sister – in – laws and their children.   It went well, or at least I thought so.”

“Mm, that’s nice.”  Tony craned his neck.  “Hey, here they finally come!  About time!”  Frowning, he suddenly asked, “Who is that with them?”

Steve looked over to see where Tony was looking, and raised an eyebrow when he saw their third companion.

“Hello, boys,” Natasha said as she appeared with Pepper and Sharon.  Eyeing Tony, she said, “What are you doing here?”

Tony groaned as Steve bit back a laugh, mindful of Natasha’s rapidly narrowing eyes.  “I’ll explain later,” he promised as Sharon came around and kissed him lightly on the cheek. 

“You’d better,” Sharon replied playfully.  “But for now, I’m starving.”

 


	9. Sunday

“So, where’s Steve?  You two are together often enough that it’s weird, for me at least, to see one without the other,” Tony remarked as he set down three, recently cleaned shot-glasses.  “Did you guys have a fight?  This separation thing has been throwing me off for the last couple Avengers’ missions.”

“No, no fights.  He’s busy there on his missions, and I’m busy here filing paperwork until Sanderson gives me the all clear to fully return to the field.  It’s as simple as that.  And he should be coming here today, he’s just running a few minutes late,” Sharon replied from where she was sitting on the couch next to Pepper, a pilfered photo album open between the two of them.  “Man, Tony, you were a pudgy baby,” she said, studying one of the two photos on the top of the page on her side of the book. 

“Knock it off, some of your baby photos are in there, including That Halloween Photo,” Tony warned.  “They’re all there as a deterrent from you showing that book to anyone else except me and Pepper.”

“How the hell did you get a hold of that photo?” Sharon demanded, instantly taking the book from Pepper so she could search through the photographs.

“Your mother asked me to get digital copies of several rolls, That Halloween Photo happened to be one of them,” Tony replied serenely.  Sharon heard several glasses clattering before Tony asked, “Does Steve even drink?”

“Yep.  He can drink anyone under the table if he’s in the mood, even Thor,” Sharon replied without looking up.

“ _Even_ Thor?”  Tony snorted.  “I don’t believe that, I think you’re just bragging,” he said, rolling his eyes as he began pouring the whiskey.  “Hope you’re up for something fiery, Carter.”

“Ah, not for me, please,” Pepper said, twisting around in her seat to glare at him.  “Just my usual.”

“Pep, I can’t give you that, we’re about to have more guests,” Tony replied with a wink.

Sharon stifled her giggles as Pepper scowled before turning back to the album.  “Hey Tony, when was this one taken?  It’s the one of you at Disney World with Mickey Mouse ears,” Sharon said, studying the photograph.

“That one was taken in 1979, thirty minutes before I snuck away from my parents to start dismantling the Easter Island heads in the Enchanted Tiki Room, the animatronics were that bad.  To me at least, so I thought I’d make them run a little smoother and less noisy.  Unfortunately, the management didn’t approve of what I was doing, they found me and dragged me out while I was working on the third Easter Island head,” Tony replied.  He paused, and then said, “I tried to buy Disney World recently, just to give it some upgrades and then I’d convince Disney Corporation to buy it back.”

Sharon looked up and stared at him.  “You wanted to do _what_?”

“I know!  I kept trying to tell him that some of those rides are classic and are _fine the way they were,_ ” Pepper said, shaking her head with a smile as Sharon began to laugh. 

“Hah, hah, hah, keep laughing, see if I care,” Tony said as the elevator doors opened behind him.  “Hey Steve, is it true that –”

“You’re obnoxious?  Why yes, yes it is,” Natasha Romanov said as she walked across the room to join Sharon and Pepper on the couch.  “Word on the street is that there’s a movie night planned.”

“That would be true, we’re still waiting on everyone else,” Sharon said.  “Tony’s just getting drinks out for now.”

“Really?  It’s only seven,” Natasha said, arching an eyebrow.

“Not _that_ early,” Tony said as he came around with a tray and three glasses.  He handed each one to the three women.  “As for movies, your choices are in the glass case under the TV, I ain’t choosing because apparently my taste in movies is sub-par.”

“Don’t mind him, he’s still miffed that Steve can hold his liquor better than him,” she said to Natasha, who nodded in understanding.

“Hey, I never said that!  I just said I didn’t believe that Steve could drink Thor under the table.  Hell, I don’t even believe that Steve _drinks_ to begin with, the guy is so straight-laced that it’s ridiculous,” Tony corrected crossly.

“Oh, I remember that night with Thor.  I lost fifty bucks that night,” Clint said as he walked off the elevator and into the room, heading toward the mini-bar. 

“What a coincidence!” Sharon said, grinning.  “I won fifty bucks that night.”

“Shut up,” Clint snapped, scowling before rolling his eyes in annoyance.  “What are they all looking at?” he asked, leaning against the counter.

“My and Sharon’s baby pictures, hers are in the last five pages,” Tony said, handing off another glass to Clint. 

“What are in the last five pages of what?” Steve asked, finally entering the room with Banner behind him.  He looked momentarily startled to see that everyone else was there too, but then nodded a greeting to Tony.

“Pictures, I think.  Sharon’s pictures are in the last five pages,” Banner said amiably as he headed over to the counter as well.  “Just water for me please.”

“Good idea,” Tony said before getting the drink.

“Where is Thor?” Steve asked, glancing around.

“Asgard.  Something about a wedding in the family,” Sharon said, leaning back far enough to accept a kiss from Steve.  “Where have you been?” she asked once they parted.

“With Sam.  We were investigating rumors of a Hydra presence in Harlem, turned out to be a group of teenagers pretending to be Hydra soldiers to have an easier time of robbing stores.  Fury’s got them in custody now, he’s planning to treat them the same way he’d treat captured Hydra soldiers, with the full package,” Steve said, grimacing.  “They did put a good fight though, despite lack of formal training.”

Sharon sighed.  “Well, they’re not going anywhere anytime soon then.  Fury’s so paranoid about Hydra that he’ll keep tabs on them for a while, even after release and after it’s been determined that they were just dumb kids who made a huge mistake,” she said as Tony handed Steve a glass as well.

“Yeah, I think the kids were beginning to realize that too,” Steve said before swallowing the glass’s contents in one gulp.  To Sharon’s shock, he immediately began coughing and sputtering.  “Tony!” he snapped.

“What now?” Tony replied, his face the picture of complete innocence.

“Seltzer water?” Steve said, holding up the empty glass.

“He doesn’t believe that you drink.  Or that you drank Thor under the table the other night,” Sharon said, twisting in her seat slightly to get a better view of the ‘discussion’. 

“And why is that so hard to believe?” Steve asked patiently.

“Because for one, Thor is a _god_ , one who is probably used to drinking a _lot_ at parties on Asgard.  For two, you’re _Captain America_!  The all around picture-perfect American soldier!  And that includes _no drinking_!  And even if you did drink before the war, you would have stopped because it’s against army regulations.”

Steve arched an eyebrow.  “Are you telling me that just because the army said we couldn’t, we didn’t?  I served under Nick Fury at one point, and he always broke the rules when he saw fit,” he said.

Tony stared at him.  “Not _our_ Nick Fury, right?”

“No, it was our Nick Fury,” Steve said, leaning back on a foot.

“That can’t be right, he’d be in his _nineties_ at least if that was true!” Tony said, staring at him, dumbfounded.

“Ask him later,” Steve said.  “Now can we watch the movie or do you want to continue with this?”

“We’re going to watch the movie,” Pepper warned, closing the photo album and placing it between herself and the arm of the couch.  “No drinking contests for _anyone_.  Now both of you come here, sit down, and watch the movie.”

“What movie are we watching?” Tony asked as he, Banner and Steve came over to the couch.  He settled down in front of Pepper while Steve sat down in front of Sharon while Banner sat down next to Steve.

“ _Ocean’s Eleven_.  Pepper hasn’t seen it yet, and neither has Steve,” Sharon said as Clint finished putting the DVD into the player.

Natasha snorted.  “It’s definitely fiction, if I wanted to rob a Las Vegas casino, I wouldn’t have gone through all that extra effort to get it.  It’s so much easier in reality.”

“I don’t believe you,” Clint said.  “Did you see how much security they’ve got on that place?”

Natasha smiled innocently at him.  “Clint, you forget I make a living on sneaking in and out hard-to-access places.  I bet you one-hundredth of the earnings that I could do it and never get caught.”

Clint arched an eyebrow.  “You’re on.”

“Hey, no more talk of actually robbing casinos, let’s just watch Clooney do it the fictitious way,” Sharon said, hoping to avoid such a robbery actually happening.

The paperwork related to damage control would be the stuff of nightmares.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Hanging out with friends.
> 
> Kudos to Fyrepen33 for suggesting the film, and to Life on Vega for the help with Disney World.


	10. Treat

Halloween had become more commercialized in the years that Steve was gone.  While he’d enjoyed a small break from the war with his fellow soldiers on that day (when he could), there were still enough drastic differences between now and then that gave him pause.  These included, but were not limited to, candy, advertisements, and decorations.

The costumes had to be the biggest change though.  While there were still people that enjoyed the traditional costumes, there were others who took after celebrities, historical figures, television characters, and other figures that Steve didn’t recognize (Sharon had had to explain the few that they did see once while walking in Central Park two days before the holiday).  He’d also found some photographs from Sharon’s childhood (while she was out), and was able to look at several years of a child enthusiastically dressing up for a night. 

Peggy had been in one of those, frozen as she held a wriggling six-year old still and caught in the middle of a sentence that Steve had never heard and will never hear.  Someone had written ‘ _London, 1991’_ in the corner.

Then there were the barely-covering-anything costumes.

Steve had decided to follow Sharon’s lead in that regard for now, and not remark anything when the two of them passed someone wearing that sort of thing.  He was still out of his depth when it came to female fashion, and found himself relying on Sharon’s reactions for the time being.

It was still a shock to the system though when he came home that afternoon of Halloween and found her in the bedroom, wearing regular black clothing that complimented her figure unusually well.  “Um, are we doing something tonight?” he asked, not holding back from taking her in.

He could see her smirk in the mirror.  “If you want, we can.  Just after the trick-or-treating hours are over,” she said, winking at him.

He almost groaned aloud when he realized how his original question sounded to her.  “You know what I meant,” he said, walking up behind her.

“Yeah, I know, but I couldn’t resist the temptation,” she said.  “Anyway, there are kids who live in this complex, and they trick or treat up and down the halls and go to all the floors.  This will be my third year here, so they know me as the ‘crazy cat lady’.  I can’t disappoint them,” she said, winking before nodding to the black headband that Steve had missed when he walked into the room.  Picking it up, he noted the black felt cat ears, and felt himself smile. 

“How did that moniker come about?” he asked.

“Tony stuck the ears on my head one day and I chased him out of the building while still wearing them.  The kids loved the resulting chaos, and went home with the impression that I lived alone with at least four cats, and a lot of moms thought I’d completely lost my mind.  I remember thinking that I’d like to see the kids smile again, so I wore the ears the following Halloween.  All but five kids remembered the incident, but they still come back.  As they will this year,” she replied.

“Tonight, right?”

“Yeah, trick or treating hours run typically from five to eight, but I always have stragglers.  Sorry Steve, it’s the hazards of living in an apartment building with little kids,” she said, tapping his nose playfully with a finger before stepping around him.   Plucking the headband with the cat ears from his grip, she said, “Tell Tony I still wear them, and you’ll get the couch for a week.”

“I wouldn’t mind challenging you for the bed in that case,” he said, following her as she took the large plastic popcorn bowl to fill with candy. 

“Maybe that’s one competition I’d like to have, regardless,” she replied with a wink.

Steve just shook his head with a smile as he pulled out the candy bags from the cupboard and tossed them over to Sharon.  “Are you going to put something on for the nose and whiskers?” he asked with a straight face, enjoying the look of surprise on Sharon’s face.  “You know, black face paint here,” he said, gesturing to his nose, “and then whiskers?”

Sharon stared at him for a moment, but before he could backtrack his idea to save his skin for the night, she laughed instead of getting irritated (that had happened the one other time early on in their relationship, when he’d mentioned makeup and she’d gotten prickly at the idea that she needed cosmetics to be more attractive).  “I should, shouldn’t I?” she said, grinning faintly.  “Might have to improvise, I’m not the artsy type so I don’t have face paint available.”

“Hang on, I’ve got this,” Steve said.  He headed to the door only to pause and ask, “Do you mind if I leave this open for a few minutes?”

Sharon shook her head.  “Nope, go for it,” she replied before going back to filling up the bowl.

Steve headed out into the hall and went two doors down.  Knocking on the door, he stepped back just as the resident, a single mother named Anna Nelson, opened it. 

“Mr. Rogers, it’s good to see you again!” she said, smiling.  Like most of the other people in the building, she was unaware of Steve’s job as Captain America, something Steve would rather keep so that she was at less of a risk.  “How can I help you?” she asked, leaning on the door frame.

“I was just wondering if you had any face paint, just a little black paint,” he said.

Anna laughed.  “Is Sharon doing the cat thing again?  The kids love it,” she asked.

He nodded.  “Apparently she enjoys making them smile, so it’s a win-win situation all around,” he replied.

“Sure, just hang on a moment.”  Anna disappeared back into her apartment, but returned quickly.  “Keep it, Mary has a whole other set,” she said, handing over a small case of three paints.  And these go missing in our house every other day.”

“It’s no problem to return it,” Steve said as he took the case.

“I insist,” Anna said, winking before shutting the door.

 _All right then_.

Sharon was done with filling out the bowl and was scanning the fridge for lunch when Steve returned.  She frowned when he entered and asked, “Where’d you go off to?”

“Getting your nose and whiskers,” Steve said with a grin as he shut the door.  “Sit down at the counter,” he said, gesturing to one of the two stools.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”  She sat down, and he pulled up the other stool to begin working.  “Oh, and Steve?”

“Don’t worry, no one will ever hear about or see this, don’t worry,” he said, grinning faintly as he began to work.


	11. Vegas

“I’m back!”

“Hello!” Sharon called from where she was curled up on the couch underneath a throw blanket.  She was in the middle of _The Sixth Sense_ , which was showing on the AMC Movie Channel, so she didn’t look up at Steve until the movie went to commercial break.  “How was D.C.?” she asked, finally turning to face him.

“Good.  Turns out the C.I.A. was actually just in a tiff with MI6, and as a result, they both lost the target that Fury sent Clint and me after,” Steve replied tiredly as he flopped down onto the couch.  “We handed the guy over to the C.I.A. in the end, as Fury ordered.”  He frowned as he glanced at the TV.  “What are you watching?”

“A movie about a guy who is trying to fix things with his girlfriend while hanging out with a six-year old kid who can see ghosts.  Freaked me out completely when I was a kid, but I like it now,” she said, stifling a yawn as she moved over to give Steve some room.  Straightening up and allowing the blanket to fall back to her lap, she reached over for the remote and handed it off to Steve. “Here, it’s all yours.”

“What are you wearing?” Steve asked warily as he sat down next to her.

Sharon looked down at herself, momentarily worried that she’d forgotten to zip something up again.  But she hadn’t.  “Oh, it’s just a souvenir from a friend,” she said, turning around so that her head was on Steve’s lap.  “Does it bother you?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Well, no.  I just didn’t think pink was your color,” he said, pulling the blanket up around her.  “Which friend got it for you?  Do I know him or her?”

“Yeah, Natasha brought it back, she’d gone to Las Vegas on her leave,” Sharon said, trying to be evasive about the extent of Natasha’s activities in the southwest.

Steve frowned, but seemed to catch on.  “She did not,” he said, looking down at her in shock.

“Did not what?” Sharon repeated, an innocent look on her face.

“Sharon, she did not just –”

“Steve, I don’t know if they had this unspoken policy in the forties, but nowadays, we all live by the ‘What happens in Vegas, _stays_ in Vegas’.  So I didn’t ask her about how her trip went, she just told me that she did a little gambling at several different casinos in order to unwind, and she ended up winning a set of five pink pajamas.  She is not a pink type of girl, so she gave one to me, one to Pepper, and left the other three up for grabs on the helicarrier.”

“What, Tony didn’t want one?” Steve said, looking down at her.

“No…I don’t think he’d want one even if they were Iron-Man patterned.  Something I’ve noticed about him over the years is that he’s very picky about his clothing.  Including pajamas even though no one but Pepper sees him in them,” Sharon said, stretching as the commercial break _finally_ ended and the movie returned.

There was a moment of silence, and then Steve said, “I’m going to ask you again what happened in Vegas, don’t make me pull rank here.”

“Do that, and in the morning, you can tell me how comfortable the couch was during the night,” Sharon replied, never taking her eyes off the television screen.

“Sharon, how much money did she take?” Steve asked wearily.

“I didn’t say she took any.  I honestly don’t know what she did in Vegas because she didn’t tell me, I just told her before she left that I didn’t want to deal with any more paperwork,” Sharon said irritably.  “You’re just jumping to conclusions because of what she said she was going to do the last time we all hung out together.”  Sticking her feet out from underneath the blanket, she added, “The pjs are actually really warm.”

Distracted, Steve glanced over only to do a double take a few minutes later.  “Are… are you wearing _footie_ pajamas?” he asked, trying not to sound stunned.

“Grownups like ‘em too, you know,” Sharon replied serenely.  “On the plus side, no one will steal mine on the sole fact that it’s pink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was 'Wearing kigurumis'. I know what a kigurumi is, but I just took the prompt and ran with it.


	12. Caught

“You know, there are more appropriate places for this.”

“Shush.  Since when are you the responsible one?” Steve murmured into the top of Sharon’s head as he held her close.

“I think the better question is since when are _you_ the mischievous one?” Sharon teased back before resting her head on his chest. 

“Mischievous?  You know I consider Tony to be the troublemaker around here,” Steve replied, pushing her back far enough so he could see her better. 

Sharon snorted, gently pushing him farther away so that she could walk around her desk.  “Tony is Tony.  Always has been, always will be.  Kudos to Pepper for being able to keep him grounded and too busy to drive the rest of us crazy,” she said, gathering up a once-scattered stack of paperwork.  Stuffing it into the folder, she walked around just to lean on the side.  “But Tony is not here, which is how it should be.”

“Good, because I can be the jealous type,” Steve teased softly before leaning in for another kiss.

“You’re one to talk, you mentioned him fir- mpf!”

“You’re talking too much,” he whispered in her ear, his breath fanning out across her skin. 

“Then fix it, Captain Rogers,” she whispered back, a smile playing out across her face before he gently wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her closer for a deeper kiss.  “I think you take too many missions.  As in not spending enough time with me,” she finally said once they’d separated for air.

“That, or you’re just getting antsy on desk duty.  You know, the Avengers’ liaison position is still open, Tony drove away the last one last week,” Steve said, resting his forehead against hers.

“If I’m going to do anything with you guys, it’s going to be to on the field, not listening to Tony yammer on and on about nonsense when he’s supposed to be focusing,” Sharon replied.  Then she leaned forward and took his tie in one hand, tugged him forward, and then wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Like you are supposed to be right now,” she whispered before craning her neck back to kiss him better.

Steve found that he couldn’t argue with that logic.  Throwing caution to the wind, he pulled her as close to him as he could, her allowing him to gently nudge her backwards to the desk.

In fact, he didn’t even realize that he was gently pushing her up against her desk until they both heard a faint _ahem._

Steve had a momentary flashback to the moment when Peggy had caught him with Lorraine as he jerked away in surprise, moving off to the side reflexively as Sharon tried to look down in an effort to conceal her burning face.

Maria Hill stood in the doorway, looking distinctly _not_ amused.  “Agent Thirteen, here are the files concerning the Avengers’ newest mission.  Director Fury wants the team briefed tomorrow evening and sent out the following morning,” she said, looking at Sharon, who had somehow managed to school her expression into one of indifference.  “This one will be a collaboration with the Central Intelligence Agency, they think they’ve picked up signs of extra-terrestrial life in the Arctic and the American southwest.  They’d like for the Avengers to check out the Arctic regions, and then rendezvous with them in Nevada.”

“Yes, ma’am.  Might I suggest splitting the team up?  Half goes to the southwest, half goes to the Arctic, and it shouldn’t be a concern because it’s just a reconnaissance mission,” Sharon said, taking the files from Hill.

“So that Stark doesn’t succumb to the temptation to gamble and Rogers doesn’t freeze over on us again?” Hill asked bluntly.

Steve grimaced at the reminder, but Sharon kept her cool… except for the small twitch at the corner of her mouth.  “Exactly, ma’am,” she replied.

“Take it up with Fury before the briefing,” Hill said before promptly leaving the office.

Steve and Sharon were both quiet for a grand total of five seconds. 

“That was _not_ appreciated,” he said as Sharon burst out laughing.

“Hey, I’ve just got your best interests at heart,” she teased, but then let out a small yelp as he stepped forward and pulled her closer.  “Captain…” she began with a teasing smile.

“Maybe I just have your best interests at heart,” he whispered back to her, and she only grinned before he reached forward and kissed her again.

 


	13. Names

“You know, Mom once told me that if I’d been born a boy, she would have named me Steve,” Sharon remarked from where she was filling out debriefing paperwork on the couch; the switch between Steve and Tony (without them telling anyone) had caused quite a bit of confusion.

“Hm.  Because of your aunt, or some other reason?” Steve asked from where he was in the kitchen reading the newspaper. 

“For some other reason.  She had an uncle whose name was Steve, and she was all about naming family members after other family members,” Sharon replied with a shrug.  “I’m named after one of her great aunts.”

Steve frowned, but then said, “Honestly, I don’t know if my mother ever said whom I was named after.  Nor what she would have named if I’d been born a girl.”

“I would have gone with Stephanie for you.  ‘Steve’ is a shortened version of ‘Stephen’, and ‘Stephanie’ is the female version of that,” Sharon replied, grinning faintly.  “Now Tony is easy.  ‘Antonia Edwina Stark’.”

“Is that really the female version of ‘Edward’?” Steve asked, looking up from newspaper.

“No idea.  That’s really up for personal interpretation,” Sharon said, shrugging with one shoulder, not really bothered at the moment whether Steve saw it or not.  Getting an idea, she asked, “What would you call Clint if he was a she?”

Steve lowered the paper to stare at her.  “You aren’t seriously contemplating this, are you?”

“It’s not like he’s going to hear about it, so no harm done.  Besides, it’s not like I’m out to kill him, I’m just wondering what our names would be if our genders were switched,” Sharon replied, sounding slightly insulted.  “Personally, I’d go with ‘Claire’, or something like that.  Keep the ‘Cl’ in there somewhere.”

“All right then, what about Natasha?” Steve challenged, getting up and walking over to the living room to stand in front of her.

Sharon sighed, putting down the paperwork she’d been examining.  “That’s tricky because she’s Russian… and the Russians have a bunch of ‘rules’ about boy versus girl names.  She could probably get away with keeping her first name of ‘Natasha’ but change her last name permanently to ‘Romanov’, as opposed to ‘Romanov _a_ ’,” she said, looking up at Steve.  “I suppose though, if you were really curious, you could ask her, I think she’s had to pretend to be a boy on several missions both for S.H.I.E.L.D. and her previous employers.”

“I’m not _that_ desperate to know, I was just wondering what your thoughts were on the matter,” Steve said, sitting down next to her and moving a stack of papers to the ground.  “The switch Tony and I did can’t have cost you this much paperwork.”

“You guys pissed off the C.I.A., who, if you recall telling me a little while ago, were already irritated with Fury since it took his involvement to catch that target.  Well, that’s what it said in your debriefing report anyway.  This was their chance for revenge when you guys did the switch, and Lord above did they complain.  Someone’s gotta file all of that,” Sharon said, gesturing to the stacks of paperwork.

“Sorry.”  Steve sat in contemplative silence with her before asking, “If Fury was female, what do you think his name would be?”

“Steve, we don’t have to imagine _that_ , we’ve already got a female Fury,” Sharon said without looking up from her papers.  “Her name is Maria Hill.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was 'genderswapped'.


	14. Park

“Hold still, you have a little on your nose,” Sharon said, reaching forward and gently brushing her finger against the top of his nose.  “There… that’s much better.”

Steve made a face and tried to escape by leaning back, but she was still faster.  “You do that often when you’re having ice cream with friends?” he teased lightly as the two resumed their walk through Central Park. 

“Only if they haven’t pissed me off in the last twenty-four hours with more paperwork and they’re not Tony Stark,” she replied with a wink as she began walking again, and Steve let her walk ahead before following as well.

They’d been dating for the good part of a year now.  Seven and a half months to be exact, although, with the battles and close calls and weeks of physical separation, it certainly felt as though it had been longer.  They still had quite a bit to work out between the two of them, but Steve was content to just take it one day at a time. 

Right now though, Sharon was far ahead.  He just kept walking calmly behind her, enjoying the park in general silence as he ate his ice cream.  It had definitely changed since his days, more sugar than anything else, but it was worth suffering through too much sugar to see Sharon behaving like she was five years old again.  There was something freeing about seeing a child’s spirit, even if it was in the body of a woman in her late twenties.  It wasn’t something he saw often, being surrounded by the dead and dying on a blood soaked battlefield somewhere in the deep of Europe.  Even the children during the war had had something haunted in their eyes, a stolen light that the war had taken away from them.

“Steve!”

He looked up with a faint smile to find Sharon waiting somewhat impatiently by a nearby fountain.  She was standing to two small children, and was apparently unaware that they too had ice creams had had taken to mimicking every action of hers.  “What’s taking you so long?” she teased as he came closer.

“Oh, I was just figuring out how to get the best shot of you three, you all look cute together,” he said, pausing a little ways away from her so that he could still see the children. 

“Huh?” She looked down in confusion, but her face broke into one of the biggest smiles when she spotted the two girls.  “Well, hello there, what are your names?” she asked, kneeling by the two of them.

This was the Sharon that wasn’t the soldier and the Avengers liaison to S.H.I.E.L.D.  This was the Sharon that Steve had fallen in love with first after watching her at one of Tony’s numerous parties.  She’d snuck out after the first half hour, claiming that Tony didn’t need her around, and Steve, on impulse, had followed to make sure she was all right.

“Hey, Steve?  You okay?”

He returned to the present, and smiled when he made eye contact with her.  “Of course I am,” he replied with an easy smile.

She just nodded with a smile in reply before turning back to the kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Eating ice cream.
> 
> Accidentally switched this with Day 13's, sorry!


	15. Wetsuit

“There will be a world of hurt if you don’t shut the hell up and put the damn wetsuit on,” Sergeant Willis growled, startling S.H.I.E.L.D. Riley Masterson. 

Sharon glanced over at where Steve, Natasha and Clint were putting their wetsuits on, caught Natasha’s disapproving expression, and shook her head silently.  Murdering S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits wasn’t a good thing because it would cause some nasty and worrisome paperwork later, something Sharon frankly wasn’t in the mood to work on at the moment. 

“I won’t lie, this isn’t very comfortable,” Steve finally said, tugging at the wetsuit.

“You didn’t wear that sort of thing when fighting in World War Two?” Clint asked, looking slightly confused.  “No water operations?”

“Those involved going after the submarines once they came up to the surface.  No deep water diving,” Steve replied uncomfortably.  “Namor preferred those missions anyway.”

“It’s just a style you’re not used to.  Trust me, once you’re in the water, you’ll be grateful you wore it,” Sharon replied, tapping her clipboard with a pen.  She pointedly looked him over before adding, “It’s flattering on you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Trust me Sharon, that’s the last thing I’m worried about,” Steve replied before he went back to fiddling with the suit. 

Sharon merely smirked before going back to her clipboard.  Honestly, she’d happily switch places with him, it had been a while since she’d been allowed on a mission because of medical reasons.  But Willis, who was well aware of her medical reports, was standing right there and already in a mood over Riley’s sudden hydrophobia; the recruit was taking a catlike attitude to the ocean below the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicopter as the small team prepared for the drop to investigate a plane wreck that had occurred less than three days ago; Fury was still suspicious of foul play on their end, even going as far as to claim that the pilot was still alive and collaborating with Hydra. 

She snuck another glance at Steve, silently appreciating the fact that the wetsuit was actually flattering on him.  They’d been together for a while now, long enough to establish a firm foundation to their relationship.  She still harbored personal doubts, ghosts of personal insecurities and threats of failures hanging over her head and shadowing every smile.  She tried not to let it bother her, but after Tapper, she distinctly remembered swearing off from coworkers so that she’d still be able to maintain that professional distance and keep her agents alive. 

“Sharon?”

Startled, she came back to reality to find that Steve had caught her staring at him.  “Yes?” she said, mentally scrambling to regain lost dignity.

“Is everything all right?” he asked carefully, as though worried about spooking her.

She nodded, and then said, “Yep, everything’s fine.”  Nodding pointedly at the wetsuit, she added, “I was just thinking that you should wear something like that just a tad more often, I wouldn’t complain.”

Then she turned back to Willis, deliberately ignoring Clint’s snickering as she picked up what was left of her pride.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Wearing a different clothing style.


	16. Morning

Between the two of them, Steve is the early riser.

It’s a habit from his army days during World War Two.  Up at dawn, in bed not too late.  Sharon still teases him about it often; she’s perfected the art of stalling in bed as long as possible before the nonexistent drill sergeant comes after her for sleeping in. 

But at six sharp every morning, when he’s not on the field, Steve is up and getting dressed in a T-shirt, sweatshirt, and jogging pants.  He pokes Sharon underneath the covers for good measure before heading out of their apartment for his morning run.

Sharon rolls out of bed ten minutes after he leaves.  She’d gone to sleep later than usual the night before, she’ll need coffee and a shower before she can properly function.  The dilemma comes down to what needs to be done first.

Then she notes that Steve has left, and goes to take a shower while there’s still hot water.  Not that they run out, it’s just that when he goes running, Steve takes an unforgiveable amount of time in the shower afterwards.  Sharon has been late to work numerous times because of poor planning on her part, but she’s always gotten subtle revenge by changing the time Steve’s alarm clock goes off.

Or at least, that’s what she tells herself.  Steve always gets up without the bloody thing anyway, and the goddamn alarm wakes her up later after letting her oversleep. 

She still has to fix that.

After her shower, she brushes her teeth and then dresses in her S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. Then she leaves the bathroom for the next morning priority item: coffee.  She still silently blamed her mother for getting her addicted to it, but she also knew that Amanda Carter wouldn't give a damn about the accusations either, to her, Sharon was either an annoyance or endearing, and she had her own special way of dealing with Sharon.

Right on time, Steve arrives right as Sharon's preparing the coffee.  He kisses her as he passes her in the kitchen.  Sharon lives for these little things, these little moments of normalcy.  Even if she and Steve are adrenaline junkies in their own special ways, Sharon at least doesn't mind the intimacy of a routine.

While Sharon's preparing the coffee, Steve takes his own shower.  Sharon turns the coffeemaker on at that point, she knows that Steve takes showers that are precisely seven minutes long and that's how long it takes for the coffeemaker to work its magic.  She leans down and pulls out a box of pastries she'd picked up on her way home from work yesterday.  On the days that Steve is feeling like a picky eater (which happens more frequently than one would think, who knew that the great Captain America was a picky eater sometimes?  She certainly hadn't until they started dating), she just takes what she wants before putting the box away again.  Luckily, today is not one of those days.

Although, Sharon mused, she'd be heading back to S.H.I.E.L.D. soon to work full time again.  She hoped Steve hadn't gotten used to the notion that she'd always be around to cook breakfast... and to think she worked so hard to disprove to him that the notion of housewives wasn't _quite_ as common as it had been in the forties.

"Morning," Steve says, coming into the kitchen and stealing another kiss before reaching for the coffee mugs.  Sharon grins and playfully swats his hand away.

"Hey, I just went through the trouble to make it, I think I'm getting first dibs," she informs him.

He grins.  "I'd pursue that, challenge you for it even, but Fury said he'd do unspeakable things to the two of us if we're late again."

Wrapping a hand around his tie, she whispers, "Since when do we _ever_ listen to Fury when it comes to life outside of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Touché," he replies before kissing her deeply again. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: During morning rituals


	17. Chill

"Steve, if there ever was a fast and quick way to traumatize the recruits..."

"We're not doing anything."

"Doesn't matter."  Sharon stretched out on the couch in the officers' lounge on the third level deck of the helicarrier, enjoying Steve's warmth against her back.  "The fact remains that ever since Tony was caught with what's-her-face from Accounting, recruits always assume that if there's two people snuggling _anywhere_ automatically means that they are involved in that way."

Steve felt her sigh in delight as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him.  Granted, two adults lying down on a couch made for cramped quarters, but Sharon had yet to voice a complaint.  In fact, if anything, she only seemed more and more content the longer the two of them lay there, her back up against his front.  "Besides, haven't you noticed how quiet it's been around here lately?"

Sharon let out a soft huff.  "That's because Clint and Natasha left on a mission to Russia.  An ex-KGB officer apparently resurfaced, and Fury wants him either captured or dead.  Basically somewhere where he can't be a potential problem."

"Who is he?  The officer I mean."

Steve felt Sharon shrug slightly.  "Some guy called ‘Vladimir Menshikov’.  Apparently he served as a member of the Red Room at some point in the Cold War, and Natasha really doesn't like anyone from the Red Room.  Hence her enthusiasm at being given the mission.  Although I personally think that she's just itching to get the hell out of here, Tony has gotten really insufferable lately.  I don't blame her at all."

Steve hummed thoughtfully.  "What did Menshikov do specifically during the war that made Fury want him dead so much?" he asked

"All I know is that he was a trainer for the Soviet super-spies and agents.  He really knew his stuff.  The important thing though was that he was rumored to have trained the Winter Soldier himself.  Given what the Winter Soldier did throughout the war, well, you really can't blame Fury for wanting to catch this guy," Sharon replied.

Steve frowned.  He'd heard Fury and Hill mention the Winter Soldier more than once; there had been rumors recently of a man who had returned from beyond the grave to continue putting others in the earth.  He'd tried to ask Tony about it once, and Tony had been strangely unhelpful then.  All he'd said was that the Winter Soldier was nothing more than a myth designed to intimidate them.  "Is the Winter Soldier real?" he finally asked Sharon, who shrugged again. 

"No one knows.  All Fury knows is that _someone_ murdered a lot of high-profile Western officials during the Cold War.  The strange assassin only ever murdered one American: New York Senator Harry Baxtor.  Everyone, including the coroner, said that Baxtor drowned himself in his own swimming pool, but Fury, and the S.H.I.E.L.D. director at the time, didn't buy it.  Not when there were several other French, English and even German officials who'd apparently died similarly as well or suffered fatal accidents.  After months of investigations, Fury was finally able to pin down the identity of the killer.  Unfortunately, well, let's just say that the Winter Soldier got a lucky shot in and now Fury wears an eyepatch."

 

Steve looked down at her, and didn't say anything until she turned around to face him again.  " _That's_ how Fury lost his eye?" he asked in disbelief.  "He tangled with a Russian assassin?"

"Well, it’s not like Loki poked his eye out with that freaky horned helmet of his.  And it was an unusually psychotic Russian assassin," Sharon clarified.  Twisting back around again, she said, "Can we not talk about this anymore?  Not here, not now."

Steve merely replied by silently pulling her closer.  And if he held her a little tighter than usual, well, she didn't call him out on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Spooning


	18. London

"I'm guessing from your reaction that this isn't normal?" Steve asked as the two of them ran through the crowds of London.  He’d started out apologizing to the tourists and citizens the two of them bumped into in their rush, but gave up after a while when it became too much.  That and it started to slow him down a little.

"This is totally unfair.  He and I were friends _before_ he joined MI6, I wasn't out to steal him or anything.  I shouldn't have to run away from a _friend_ ," Sharon complained, risking a glance behind her.  " _Damn_ that guy is fast!"

Steve just shook his head, grinning ever so slightly as he kept running, mindful to stay near Sharon.

The two of them were visiting Peggy Carter in London when Sharon had run into a childhood friend, one Sherrinford Holmes.  Apparently the Holmeses and Peggy Carter knew each other very well, and every summer, when Harrison and Amanda Carter visited for a month, bringing little Sharon with them, the Carters and Holmeses got together once a week for tea with a third colleague that both Peggy and the Holmeses knew very well.  Sharon hadn't been going on those trips since she'd gone to college and would manage to secure a summer job or internship, thus becoming unavailable to travel with her parents.  The Holmeses, parents themselves with three sons, still visited with Peggy even though each of the three children were busy as well.  In fact, there was to be a family gathering later that week, where Steve would join the Carters at this tea. 

As it was, Sharon had run into the youngest Holmes by accident while looking for lunch with Steve.  The two had started talking animatedly, catching up with each other while Steve hovered - or at least tried not to appear to - and he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Sharon and 'Sherrinford' had had feelings for each other; they were roughly around the same ages, and they both shared similar interests in espionage.  Then she'd leaned in and kissed Sherrinford lightly on the cheek.

Evidently, Steve wasn't the only one wondering about a past relationship.

Sherrinford's partner had appeared literally seconds later, all smiles and barely concealed threats.  Sharon, unable to back down from a challenge on a good day, had accidentally insulted the other man when he'd started subtly interrogating them.  She'd bolted the second he'd started to chase her for the insult.  Steve, still catching up with what had just happened, simply followed to keep her safe if anything.

That brought them to the here and now.

"He's not even interested in girls, said as much the last time our parents tried to matchmake us the last summer we were all together.  I was in high school and he was in the British equivalent of that, his older brother Sherlock was at university and I don't know what Mycroft, the oldest, was up to at the time," she said.  "The kiss was just a friendly greeting we used to do with each other when we were younger.  We're just friends, I swear," she added, grabbing Steve's collar and yanking him down a secluded side street.  She pulled his collar down and kissed him, and he backed her up against the wall to return the kiss.

Their pursuer darted by the side street, not noticing either of them.  Steve waited until he felt confident that the other man was gone before pulling Sharon closer and hugging her tightly.


	19. Navy

"I don't want to do this," Sharon whined softly as she grudgingly brushed her hair.  "You can't chase a bad guy in heels."

Steve snorted as he fixed his tie.  "Tony hardly counts as a 'bad guy', and for what it's worth, I'm glad that you're coming with me.  I never knew what to do at these events, even back during the forties," he said, glancing back at her.

Sharon squirmed in her seat, still wearing the white slip that she'd be wearing underneath the gown she had laid out on their bed.  "I know it's a charity gala and that the Avengers are the highlight of the evening, but bad guys aren't exactly that smart.  Once, when Susan Storm and Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four got married, they had a bunch of heroes attend the wedding... and some bad guys thought that attacking a churchfull of heroes was a smart idea.  I'm half-expecting something like that to happen tonight."

Steve shook his head.  "I don't think any bad guys would be interested in attacking the party tonight, don't worry," he said as he dusted his black dress jacket shoulders off.  Rubbing Sharon's exposed shoulder closest to him, he added, "Why don't you get into your dress, and then we can go?  The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave."

"Oh, all right," Sharon said, standing up.  "I might need a little help zipping my dress up, I can't reach back there," she said in a coy manner as she sashayed over to the bed to pick up the gown. 

Steve smirked.  "I see what you're trying to do there, and I'm telling you right now it's not going to work," he said, making the last miniscule adjustment to his tie.  Glancing over at her, he said, "I'll come back and zip you up when you're ready," he said, winking to her before heading out into the living room.

"Tease," Sharon muttered under her breath as she gracefully stood up and reached over to grab her gown from the bedspread.  There were times like these where she wished she didn't know Tony quite as well as she did so she wouldn't feel quite as bad about constantly attempting to skip out on going to these fancy charity galas.  Pulling the navy gown from the bag, she gingerly stepped into the dress, silently cursing herself for never paying her mother much attention when it came to Female 101 while growing up.  Amanda had forever fussed with her daughter's appearance up until Sharon went to college, and if Sharon was completely honest, she most certainly did not miss the fashion lessons at all.  Even though she was in this slight dilemma of a fancy dress and heels right now.   As for her hair, Sharon had just pulled it up into a bun while letting her bangs remain free.  "All right, Steve, I'm ready for the zip-up," she called as she adjusted the one shoulder strap of the navy gown.

She heard his soft exhalation of surprise as he approached her from behind.  "You look absolutely beautiful," he whispered as he found the zipper and eased it up all the way.  "You always do, but this is one side of you I've never seen before."

Sharon smiled softly as he turned her around to face him.  "Why, thank you, Captain," she teased softly before kissing him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was: In formal wear.


	20. Gala

"You're actually pretty good at this."

Steve arched an eyebrow at Sharon as the two of them slowly danced in tandem with the other guests at the gala.  Night had long fallen, and it was drawing close to midnight.  Sharon was doing her best to stifle her yawns, but Steve knew she was worn out from the week in general, especially since they'd both returned from London less than three days ago, and she'd always been unusually affected by the jet lag of trans-Atlantic travels.  Which was odd, for Steve anyway, since she'd definitely traveled such a distance every year when she was younger and used to travel frequently for S.H.I.E.L.D. prior to her being sidelined.  But she had yet to ask to head back home, and Steve suspected that she was simply being a good friend and sticking it out for Tony's sake. 

"You do know that I couldn't dance to save my life back before I joined the war?" he said, raising an eyebrow. 

"But you learned.  I know you did, and would have been able to guess as much if Aunt Peggy hadn't told me anything," Sharon replied calmly as she rested her head on his chest.  He held her loosely as they continued to move slighlty slower than the other couples, and he took advantage of her silence to look around the room at everyone else.

Since the Avengers had been the draw for guests that evening, everyone on the team except Thor was there.  Clint was still awkwardly dancing with a S.H.I.E.L.D. pilot, Roberta 'Bobbi' Morse, as he still didn't know her that well but apparently had a crush on her, and had barely mustered the courage to ask her to come with him that evening.  Tony was with Pepper, whispering something into her ear that was making her turn slightly scarlet with faint embarrassment. Bruce had been reconnected with an old girlfriend, Betty Ross, and was quietly enjoying time with her; Steve had heard that there'd been bad blood between Bruce and Betty's father, General Ross, over Harlem, but Steve wasn't privy to the details and had chosen not to ask.  Natasha was standing off to the side of the room, talking casually with a Russian business partner with Tony's in a way that suggested an old friendly familiarity that could only come from years of prior acquaintance.  Again, it was an intriguing development, but really none of Steve's business. 

"Stop thinking so loud, it's just dancing, not chasing Hydra," Sharon murmured against his chest.  He leaned down slightly and pressed his face briefly against her hair in a wordless gesture of reassurance.  "You know, one and two, one and two, one and two and three and four..."

"I really don't know if that is a legitimate series of dance steps," Steve said, grinning slightly as Sharon looked up and scowled at him. 

"How's this: I'll let you know when I actually care," Sharon said, a trace of irritation prominent in her tone.

Instead of getting offended, Steve only laughed.  "Very well, that works too," he replied before pulling her close and holding her tight.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dancing


	21. Muffins

Steve didn't see it coming until it was too late to deflect it.

"Hey, wh- Sharon!" he said, flinching back from a speck of powdery white that Sharon had flicked in his direction the moment he walked into the kitchenette.  "What _was_ that?" he said, rubbing his nose furiously to get the powder off.

Sharon's grin was wide as she said, "Oh, just flour."

Steve lowered his hand to find the white smeared all over his hand.  Judging from Sharon's growing smile, he suspected that she'd known all along how he was going to react and chose the messiest baking ingredient to ambush him with.  "So what are you making, and what's it for?" he asked, walking around the small island to reach the sink behind Sharon. 

Sharon made a face, and that was when he realized that she was in an old T-shirt, jeans, socks and had flecks of different baking ingredients down her entire front.  On the counter before her was the mixing bowl where the flour had come from, butter, the salt container, sugar, and a few other ingredients that took Steve a moment to recognize.  Underneath it all was a kitchen dishtowel.  "Well, it's going to be apple muffins once I'm finished, and it's going to be an appeasement gift to Mom when she comes up to 'surprise' us tomorrow.  Dad knows that I hate it when Mom does that, so he called earlier this morning while you were out to warn us," Sharon explained.  "We are appeasing Mom because she is extremely unhappy that we haven't called her in months.  In my defense, I actually forgot for real this time to call her.  Y'know, compared to the other times I've 'forgotten'," she said, glancing at Steve with a guilty expression. 

Steve cringed at the thought.  Amanda Carter, while sweet and doting on him, turned into a completely different creature when faced with her daughter.  While the two actually never fought (or at least in front of Steve they didn't), there was definitely tension there between the two women.  Harrison Carter, a Virginian senator and Peggy's nephew, knew about the polar opposite personalities between mother and daughter, and had quietly informed Steve that the differences between the two women kicked in after Sharon turned fourteen and went through something of a rebellious phase.  Amanda evidently chose to ignore these issues as time went on, and continued doing as she pleased… such as popping in on Sharon and Steve without warning them beforehand.  Despite prior warnings though, Sharon always acted surprised to see her mother, and Steve suspected though that the pleasure was genuine.  No matter what Sharon said after her parents had left.

"Will you need help?" he asked, walking around to the other side of the counter. 

"You know how to cook?" she said, looking surprised.  "Well, I mean obviously you can cook on the battlefield and stuff, but in a kitchen?"

"No, I haven't really cooked in a kitchen before," he admitted, "But I do know how to take orders, ma'am."

A smile twitched on her face.  "Really Captain?  This could be a dangerous mission, the queen of Richmond is a hard lady to appease even on a good day.  If she is cross, we could both face capture," she said, leaning on the counter across from him.

"Well, I have my partner to watch my back, and I trust her explicitly to work with me," he replied with a wink.  Pulling away before Sharon could kiss him, he said, "Shall we begin the strategy plans?"

"Aye, aye, Captain."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: cooking/baking


	22. Grace

There's a certain level of grace that the two of them have achieved after almost two and a half years of working together.

Fury figures that he'd be the only one to see it.  Then again, he'd been closely monitoring the two of them ever since he'd stuck them together on that one mission, the one he'd meant to use as a 'get over whatever issues you have with each other' mission, not as a 'start to date a coworker' mission.  He couldn't afford to have one of his Avengers crash and burn just because of a bad breakup or the girlfriend managed to get herself in trouble (Thirteen was occasionally more trouble than she was worth, but Fury kept her anyway, not out of a misguided sense of loyalty to Peggy-he had none, he didn't know the S.H.I.E.L.D. founder _that_ well-but more out of the fact that despite said mistakes, she was actually competent enough to stay _alive_ , if not in one piece). 

The fiasco in New York, where she walked away with temporary amnesia, is a prime example of that.  Fury hopes she's not trying to copy him, she wouldn't survive a face-off against with the psychotic Russian assassin that tried to kill him years ago.

Right now, he's in the helicarrier command deck as technicians scurry about, each yelling at each other as the Avengers plunge deeper into Harlem trying to kill M.O.D.O.K., whose minions are trying to kill said Avengers while taking over that part of New York City at the same time.  It's not going well for them, but then again, the whole 'war on two fronts' thing didn't work out well for the German Empire either in the First World War.

Captain America and Agent Thirteen are the ones leading the way.  Well, it's more like Thirteen is carefully guarding the captain's back, staying close behind as he runs.  An ambitious A.I.M. agent tries sneaking up from behind her, but she catches sight of him anyway, driving her foot into his gut.  As soon as her back is turned however, another one attacks from the side.  Thirteen’s mouth doesn’t even move, she just ducks right as Captain America turns with his shield out and catches that one in the face.  Then he turns again right as she stands up and presses her back against his: they’re surrounded now by A.I.M. agents. 

The rest of the Avengers, Fury notes, are surrounded as well.  He’d forgotten that while unchecked, A.I.M. can grow and no one would ever know the exact size of the organization.  He’s about to turn and demand for the location of the surprise air support when he spots it.

To anyone else watching them, it looks like Thirteen and Captain America are _holding hands_ behind their backs.  Fury himself almost groans when he realizes that it’s not quite what it seems; they’re both clasping the other person’s wrist, and Thirteen’s gloved index finger is tapping against Captain America’s wrist at random intervals.

“Lieutenant, zoom in on the captain,” Fury orders.

The lieutenant nods obediently before zooming in on the two of them.  Fury silently counts the taps against the captain’s wrist, and frowns when the captain starts tapping against her wrist-

Then the captain steps aside, giving Thirteen the open shot towards M.O.D.O.K., missing the A.I.M. leader completely.  Before Fury can curse Thirteen out, the bullet ricochets off an A.I.M. tank, knocking the turret aside and smacking the guard standing near Widow off the machine completely.  Fury looks back to see that the captain had moved his shield to protect Thirteen’s exposed flank, and next thing he knows, the entire street has exploded into action again.

“Sir, Agent 19 reports that the squadron are ready for take off,” another officer reports from his station, turning in his seat to face the director at the same time.

“Good.  Get those birds in the air, and let’s clean the beekeepers out of Harlem,” Fury orders before turning back to the screen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: In battle side-by-side.


	23. Division

It started with an upset stomach.

"Are you sure you're feeling up to it?" Steve asked warily as Sharon joined the Avengers in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hangars, in the belly of the helicarrier.  Sergeant Willis was right behind her, wearing the usual navy S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform while Sharon had opted for her usual white.   At the moment, it was just the three of them and Tony (who was bickering with a technician) standing outside of the newly commissioned Quinjet.  "You don't have to come if you don't feel well."

"I feel _fine_ ," she said, scowling.  She'd been somewhat prickly the last couple of days, but Steve figured that it was either the usual complaint or she was still blowing off steam from an argument with Tony.  "I don't need to be coddled, I'll be fine.  It's just an upset stomach, not a disease."

"I'd like to contest that, you were throwing up earlier," Willis said as he walked past the two of them.

Sharon scowled after him.  "I'm sorry, whose side are you on again?" she snapped as the other man began to walk up the ramp.

“Sharon, _calm down_ , I’m just worried about your health, that’s all.  You haven’t been on many extremely high-risk missions since you temporarily lost your memory after our first run against A.I.M. in New York,” Steve replied patiently.  He was used to the mood swings now after two something years of living with her, and had several ways of handling them depending on the issue they were ‘discussing’ and the intensity of the disagreement.  “I’d rather have you here and pissed off with me and not out there and dying somewhere.”

“I don’t even have a _fever_ ,” Sharon said, throwing her hands up in exasperation before doubling back over, clutching her stomach slightly.  Before Steve could kneel down with her, to check on her, she straightened while muttering, “I’m _fine_.”

“Case and point,” Willis said from his place of safety on the quinjet ramp.  He turned and refocused on his paperwork when Sharon glared at him.

“You’re staying.  No argument, and I’m not budging on this one… you can’t come,” Steve said firmly, putting a hand on her shoulder to keep her from marching up the ramp. 

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I’m just sick of everyone telling me of what I _can’t_ do?” Sharon snapped in a low voice as she smacked his hand off her shoulder.  “I swear that’s all I’ve been hearing for the last three years-”

“That’s because you can’t heal overnight, Sharon.  You’re lucky that Sanderson even lets you into the field anymore after New York!” Steve said, speaking over Sharon as his temper thinned. 

Sharon laughed; a harsh cold sound that didn’t sit well with Steve.  “Oh, Steve.  If you only knew how many times Sanderson threatened to keep me off the field,” she said, leaning back on a foot.  Glancing past him, she said, “Hey, Sarge!  What’s the exact number of Sanderson’s threats?”

“Eighty-five,” Willis said, not looking away from the clipboard in his hands as though he’d suddenly realized that he didn’t want to be a part of the discussion anymore.  Steve figured that probably should have been his own warning sign, but he wasn’t about to let Sharon get her way and put _everyone_ at risk.

“Sharon.  No,” he said, his tone brokering no further argument.  “If you’re not in top physical condition, you could get everyone killed.”

Sharon stared at him.  “I’ve been like this for three years and _now_ you’re raising complaints?” she said, crossing her arms. 

Steve frowned.  “Been like what?”

Willis excused himself at that point, muttering something about forgotten equipment in the lockers.  The technician, spotting Willis’s departure, politely excused himself as well, citing a final pre-flight check before scuttling away from the hangar altogether, leaving Tony confused.

“ _This,_ ” Sharon replied, gesturing to herself.  “I’ve been sidelined so many times before and you choose _now_ to complain about it?”

 _Idiot!_   “Trust me Sharon, if there had been doubts that you could be injured, or could have injured others, I would have kept you back in those times as well.  But the past is the past and nothing can be done about it!” Steve countered, trying and failing to keep his temper in check. 

“Are you saying it’s my fault?” she demanded.

“We can’t all comply with your wishes!  You’re not coming because you physically can’t keep yourself and others _safe_!”

Silence.

Sharon opened her mouth as though to say something, and then shut it again.  An odd, puzzled expression came over her face, and then she seemingly deflated.  “Right.  Of course.  Apologies, Captain Rogers, I stepped out of line,” she said, her face becoming curiously blank.  “Excuse me, sir.”

He watched in silence as she retreated from the hangar, only moving when he sensed Tony approaching.  “Was I too harsh?” he asked after another moment of silence.

“No, I think she might have known she needed that, but someone had to give her the kick in the rear,” Tony said, shrugging.  “Of course, I know about just as much as you do when it comes to the female mind, so hell if I know.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Arguing


	24. Peace?

The mission went off without a hitch.

Granted, they did have to compensate for Sharon’s absence, and Steve made a mental note to take his cues from Willis the next time he found himself in an argument with Sharon. 

When they returned to the helicarrier, Steve went to Medical like he was supposed to.  He’d texted Sharon to let her know that he’s gotten back safe and sound, but had yet to get a reply.  He hoped that this wasn’t another form of her snubbing him; although they usually kept their private life to themselves, the arguments sometimes spilled over into their professional ones.  While Sharon nor Steve would _never_ put lives at risk for the sake of proving a point, that didn’t necessarily mean that they still found ways to irritate the other person.  Maybe Sharon would ‘forget’ to file Steve’s report or, if Steve happened to be feeling particularly vindictive, he’d handwrite his report before turning it in (he was careful to keep a typed version on hand, just in case). 

Although this time, she seemed content with the tried and true cold shoulder.

Sanderson fluttered around in his usual way, but Steve could the stress lines in the man’s mouth.  Difficult patient, and if Steve had to put money down, it was probably Sharon.  She was the only one in the ‘Dodge Medical’ club who had been in Medical recently, assuming anything Steve said before was anything to go by. 

He went off in search of her after he was done.

She was curled up on the couch in the lounge three floors down from Medical.  She twisted around when he entered, and offered him a little smile.  “Hey,” she said, slowly straightening up in her spot. 

“Hey.”  Sitting down on the couch across from her, he gave her a small smile.  Glancing down at his hands for a moment, he said, “Sharon, about earlier-”

“I’m sorry!” Sharon blurted, startling them both.  Pressing a hand over her eyes, she said, “I mean, I’m sorry for being stubborn and putting everyone at risk like that, it just hadn’t been an issue before and-”

“Sharon, it’s partly my fault.  I hadn’t known at the time, and if I did, I would have kept you back even then on the basis that you could have been a risk to yourself as well as everyone else,” Steve said patiently. 

“I know…I know…” Sharon folded her hands in her lap but still avoided his eye.  “It’s just that I’ve felt I’ve heard ‘You can’t’ a lot growing up.  ‘You can’t draw’, ‘You can’t skip going to London’, ‘You can’t join the army’, et cetera, et cetera.”

“So your natural response to the ‘You can’ts’ is to dig your heels in and prove the speaker wrong,” Steve said finally. 

“Yeah.” 

The two were quiet for a few minutes.  Then Steve said, “Sergeant Willis told me.  What you meant, when you said you’d been ‘like this’ for three years.”

Sharon hummed softly.  “Did he now?  How much did he tell you?”

“Enough so that I had an idea, but not enough to infringe on your privacy.”  Steve was quiet for a moment, biting back his reflex action to chide her for her recklessness back then.  “Sharon, I’m not angry.”

“About what?  Something you weren’t even there for?” she snapped, looking up at him.  “It doesn’t matter anyway, none of it.”

“Of course it does, I’m not going to treat you any differently if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said worriedly, hoping that they weren’t about to start bickering again.

“No, I really mean that it doesn’t matter anymore.  Sanderson was wrong, he was wrong for once and that’s that,” she replied, looking back down again.

He realized that there was something she wasn’t telling him. 

“Sharon, I’m not angry or trying to be controlling, I’m just worried about you, that’s all.  You weren’t well when I left, and if Sanderson is any kind of indicator, you still aren’t well,” he said, trying to pinpoint the source of her anxiety.  “I’m not going to leave you if that’s what you’re worried about,” he added.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, blue eyes snapping up to meet his, her expression panicked. 

Oh. _Oh_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: making up.
> 
> This 'making up' is probably going to be a two-parter.


	25. News

There was absolute silence between the two of them.

Steve’s face was still caught between shock and some other emotion that Sharon couldn’t immediately identify.  This wasn’t how she imagined telling him.

Then again, she hadn’t imagined telling him at all, primarily because she was still processing the fact that she was pregnant.  Which, considering the aftermath of her first altercation with Hydra all those years ago, shouldn’t even be possible.  Sanderson had been rather irked that for once, one of his diagnoses had been incorrect.  The two of them had run countless tests just to be absolutely sure, and all had come back positive. 

 _Kids aren’t in the plan_. _We’re agents and spies for God’s sake, when would we have the bloody time?_

Steve’s silence wasn’t exactly reassuring.

His eyes were a darker blue than hers, but still just as expressive.  She could see the initial confusion melt into expected shock mixed with anxiety as her concerns crossed his mind.  Then there was the (expected) stereotypical fear as most men apparently experienced upon hearing this news.  She found herself searching the blue though for the inevitable rejection, but for some odd reason, found something else there instead.

“Sharon,” he finally said after an indeterminable silence, “I think we need to talk.”

* * *

 

 _“I’m pregnant._ ”

The two words echoed in his head, creating a haze of momentary confusion until he realized what exactly what it was she was saying, and the full implications of the situation.  The fear that dominated her lighter-blue gaze shifted once she too saw the transition. 

Although she clicked with her father’s side of the family better, she didn’t seem to realize how much she took after her mother’s side of the family in appearances.  Peggy had had dark brown eyes, full of intelligence, but Sharon’s were a light blue like her mother’s.  A light blue that was full of absolute terror, which was masked underneath a thin layer of anxiety. 

He didn’t blame her.

They both loved their jobs, and as much as she wasn’t going to like doing it, he suspected that she would step back from her duty to care for the child.  Parenting nowadays seemed full of more challenges than Steve had experienced, albeit challenges of a different kind.  He wasn’t as quite as familiar with the laws governing parenthood nowadays, but he’d fall back on what was familiar to him while adapting to the modern age.  Leaving her was out of the question, they’d been together for three years and he wasn’t about to change that.  They had their fights, yes, but it had never been enough to permanently split them up.   

Besides, if he did leave her to raise the child on her own, she’d always come back somehow and somewhere with the specific purpose of killing him. 

Nothing about their current situation would change if he took the other option.  Sanderson always let one of them in to see the other anyway, and since Sharon was off the front lines more often than not, Steve knew she’d listed herself as an emergency contact in the chance something happened to him on the battlefield.  Every other aspect of their lives had been melded together in a way that made Steve considering taking the next step even months before this happened.

No time like the present, he mused.

“Sharon,” he finally said after an indeterminable silence, “I think we need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Gazing into each other's eyes.


	26. Bells

_“Sharon… I think we need to talk_.”

She’d been expecting a complete rejection to follow those words. 

She’d not been expecting a well-thought out plan.  She had not been expecting a compromise. 

She most certainly hadn’t been expecting a _marriage proposal_.

Her knee-jerk reaction had been to shoot it down, but she’d managed to hold her mouth shut long enough to hear Steve out.  He wasn’t doing this out of obligation, but rather something he’d been considering for a while.  She was still privately doubtful of his reasons, but decided to take the leap of faith anyway and agreed. 

They both agreed on the private ceremony on the Carter family estate in Richmond, primarily to remain hidden from the media, who would hound them until the end of days and potentially risk the unborn child by exposing him or her to potential enemies.  That was Sharon’s greatest (and secret) fear, medical complications aside, that Hydra would catch wind that their deadliest enemy had a _family_ now, bargaining chips to use for cooperation.

“Sharon, _relax_ , he hasn’t bolted yet,” Amanda Carter said, fussing with her daughter’s hair.  Sharon didn’t dare ask her about the timing between the mention of the pregnancy to the wedding plans, especially since Amanda had had seven months to voice any complaints from when Sharon timidly told her she was getting married to the wedding date itself. 

“That’s not what I’m anxious about,” Sharon replied, gritting her teeth as her mother gave the hairbrush a particularly vicious yank.  “More of like how long he’ll _stay_.”

“He has a higher opinion of you than that sweetie, I can tell from the way he looks at you,” Amanda replied as she began braiding her daughter’s hair.

“How would you know that?” Sharon blurted out, turning to stare at her mother.

Amanda huffed in impatience.  “I’m your mother sweetie, I learn how to spot these things.  Besides, your father is talking to him right now, so I wouldn’t worry.”

Sharon groaned, but stood up obligingly when her mother tugged her hair to get her to stand.  “He’s going to scare Steve away.”

“No, they have a nice rapport, I noticed that as well.  I wouldn’t worry about Steve, honey.  And _smile_ for goodness sake, I understand that you’re nervous, but you look like you’re being led to the gallows!”

“ _Not_ funny, Mom.”

Amanda shrugged.  “Just saying.”  She finished Sharon’s hair and then said; “Now let’s go find that pretty gown and get you all dressed up into it.  When is the baby due?”

“Five more months, Mom.  Doctor Sanderson is going to come out to join us to check on things, and he’ll stick around for the actual birth.”

“Please tell me you’ll be in the United States for the birth, I don’t want to have to worry if my grandchild will have American citizenship or not.”

Sharon sighed.  “Fury’s got that taken care of, and I can’t exactly tell you where we’re going because for one, Steve won’t tell me and two, it’s best if you don’t know so you won’t have to worry about hiding it from anyone who comes after us.”

“Yes, how _are_ you going to keep doing your saving-the-world business with a child?”

Sharon shrugged.  “I have no idea.  I think Steve and I were going to talk about it at some point soon.”

“It had better be soon.  I don’t know how they did parenting in the forties, but I will bring hell to your front door if you’re left with all the work,” Amanda warned as she helped Sharon into the sleek white gown.

“No, he’ll be there too.  He said he wanted to give the child what he didn’t have growing up, and that was a father,” Sharon said, standing still so that her mother could zip up the gown.  “We’ve even discussed about keeping his Captain America persona a secret from the child, just so he or she doesn’t feel pressure to follow in his footsteps.”

“Hm.  Be careful with that, I don’t want you to lose your child just because she or he felt betrayed you didn’t trust them with such a secret,” Amanda warned.

“I _know_ , Mom.  We haven’t decided that one yet.”

Amanda merely sighed.  “One step at a time, sweetie.  Focus on getting married today, worry about the baby tomorrow,” she said before reaching for her jewelry box.  “Now let’s see what I can add, you still need something borrowed and something old.”

 _“Mom!_ ”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Getting married


	27. Fireworks

“You know, I’m almost afraid to ask how old you really are today,” Sharon said, bumping her forehead against Steve’s for a moment before walking back to the safety of her lawn chair.  “But time has been very, very kind to you.”

“That and the ice in the North Atlantic,” Steve said, sitting down next to his pregnant wife, leaning against her shoulder as the two of them waited patiently at the edge of the sand dunes of Puerto Rico.  Above them, the stars glittered in the clear night sky as cool breezes chased away the July heat, sometimes buffeting the fireflies that were among the grasses on the edge of the beach and land. 

Sharon was now seven months along, and Sanderson had forbidden her from traveling extensively until the baby was born.  Although no one said it aloud, the unspoken concerns regarding the serum and its effects on the child, as well as Sharon’s own health and capabilities, still floated in the air.  From what Steve understood, gleaned from snatches of conversation between Sanderson and Sharon, and Sanderson and the two nurses that had accompanied him, Sharon had suffered an in-mission accident that, as Sanderson had thought, rendered her incapable of children. Sanderson had no idea how what the hell was going to happen now, so he was hovering over Sharon to the point where she’d smacked him away yesterday. 

“I have never been able to get over the fact that you were born on the _Fourth of July_.  How much more patriotic can you get since you’ve accomplished _that_?” she said, turning to glance at him. 

“No idea,” he said, brushing some of her hair away from her face.  Ideally, he knew she would have liked to be up in the Northeast preparing their apartment for the new arrival, but Sanderson’s paranoia and Fury’s caution kept them both grounded in Puerto Rico for the indefinite future. 

“What did you do on your birthday, growing up?” she asked, watching him now.

He shrugged, his memories of growing up were a little fuzzy now.  “Usually something small with my mother.  When Bucky moved to New York from Indiana, we’d wreak some kind of havoc in Brooklyn for the day before going home for a little cake.  It was summer, obviously, so school was always out.”  Leaning his head against hers, he said, “Once I went to war, I didn’t really keep track of that sort of thing, it wasn’t that important.  Stayed that way when I came out of the ice in this century until Tony ambushed me with an impromptu party the year after New York.”  He glanced at her, and said, “What about you?”

“Eh, I never usually celebrated it on my birthday, we’d wait until a vacation while we were in England so that we could include Aunt Peggy.  After high school, I’d do something small with my parents every year, but we didn’t go all and out like some girls in my year did.  After I joined S.H.I.E.L.D., it didn’t become that important.  I saw it almost as a marker of another year that I’d managed to survive despite numerous close calls,” Sharon replied, leaning her head on his.

She fell quiet right as fireworks erupted over the ocean, Steve could see the ship on the horizon that was launching them.  “Happy birthday,” Sharon whispered before kissing him on the nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: On one of their birthdays.


	28. Guess

“How about Richard?”

Steve shook his head.  “No, please no,” he said, bracing himself as Sharon shifted in a better position to lean against him.  The two were on the actual beach this time, feet tucked into the sand as they deliberated baby names.  “I’d suggest Anthony, but only to get a rise out of you,” he said, kissing her nose playfully.

“And to inflate Tony’s ego.  Pepper complains about it enough, we don’t need to add to her misery,” Sharon replied, flicking a little sand at his chest. “Evan?”

“I could see it as a first name, but it strikes me more as a surname.  Reminds me of that actor from that movie on TV, _The Iceman,_ I think it was,” he said, absently brushing the sand off himself. 

“Hm, I though that actor was cute,” Sharon said, snuggling closer as best as she could at the moment.  “Your suggestion?”

“More of a question.  Are we absolutely sure it’s a boy?” Steve said, glancing down at his wife.

“We-ell, you can ask Sanderson or the nurse if you want, I wanted it to be a surprise.  I’m personally feeling that it’s going to be a boy, but you can talk to the doctors if you want.  If they annoyed me before, I’m absolutely sick of them now,” Sharon said, shrugging without opening her eyes.  “They keep hovering too much and too _close_.”

“They’re just worried about the effect the serum will have on you and the baby,” Steve said quietly, briefly acknowledging the flutter of guilt before tucking it away.

“I know, that’s why I haven’t kicked them out yet,” Sharon muttered back crossly.  “But back to baby names.  I want to have this settled before my mother remembers and calls to give us her personal input.”

“We’re going to be seeing her more often now, aren’t we?” Steve asked, remembering how stressed Sharon got on a normal day back home when they received forewarning of Amanda’s visits.

“Yeah, she’ll want to help, and we’ll want help,” Sharon replied as he moved some of her hair from her face.  “Kids are a handful even on a good day, boys even more so.  In my opinion anyway, you try babysitting two toddler boys when you’re just sixteen.  I was at my wit’s end with them both at the time, but they helped train me for dealing with people in S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“I think there’s a bit of a difference between your babysitting charges and S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel,” Steve said, glancing down at her.

“You’d think that, but I still run across the occasional officer who thinks he’s entitled because his father was some hotshot in a battle, or ran a risky mission.  It’s irritating.  A temperament like that reminds me of how entitled those toddlers acted while I was caring for them.  So I just treated the obnoxious officer as I would the toddler.  There, babysitting training.”

Steve shook his head with a smile.  “Only you could take two very different situations and tie them together with something as odd as babysitting training.”  He leaned forward and said, “I suppose we should get back to baby names?”

“Mm, good idea.  Don’t want to be caught off guard at the actual birth,” Sharon said, readjusting herself.  “Now how about James?”

Steve paused, wondering if she knew about whom he left behind in the war.  Then he dismissed it, of course she knew.  But was it really fair to pin a soldier’s ghost to an unborn child, especially that of his best friend?  He could understand where she was coming from with the suggestion, but he still had his reservations.  “Let’s keep it on the table as a possibility,” he said.  “Now, another idea?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Something ridiculous


	29. Family

Despite the fact that Steve had seen it coming, it still worried him that there had been medical complications with the pregnancy.  Namely the early arrival.

Several nurses were in the waiting room with him, waiting to be summoned back in to assist Doctor Sanderson as well.  Steve didn’t know yet if the problem had something to do with the serum or Sharon’s old injuries, but he hoped the doctor would tell him either way.

“Captain?”

He paused, frowning at the nurse who had spoken.

“She’ll be fine,” the nurse said patiently.  “No need to wear down a hole in the floor, we’ve done this before, Sanderson has taken care of pregnancies before, we know what we’re doing.”

Steve stared at her, and then realized that he’d been pacing across the length of the waiting room. The idea that Sanderson might have not had exposure to childbirth before hadn’t even crossed his mind until the nurse had said it.  “I thought Sanderson was a military doctor,” he blurted out.

“Sanderson is a _S.H.I.E.L.D._ doctor, and there are women who work for S.H.I.E.L.D.  It’s more of security thing, less hassle trying to get the security clearance necessary.  Especially for the higher ranking officers.  So naturally he has to train for any kind of possible medical emergency that could befall a secret intelligence agency,” the nurse said.  “It’s just a bonus that he started out as a military doctor.”

Steve stared at her.  “But-”

“Captain?” Sanderson said, looking worn out as he came out of the operating room.  “She’s in recovery, but she and the child are _fine_.”  Peeling off his plastic gloves, he added, “It’s a girl, by the way.  It’s safe to go in now because she’s calm, but do try your best not to rile her up again.”

Steve nodded and slipped inside as soon as he could.

Sharon was propped up in the hospital bed, dozing with her face bowed toward a large swath of blankets that was tucked in her arms.  As Steve cautiously approached, unwilling to startle either, the bundle of blankets suddenly moved with a snuffling sound, prompting Sharon to lean forward and shush the blankets.  Sharon looked wiped out, but content. 

“She’s not going to bite,” Sharon said suddenly, startling Steve.  Her blue eyes were quietly regarding Steve, and then she nodded toward the blankets again.  “She won’t bite,” Sharon repeated tiredly as Steve cautiously approached the blankets.  Tilting her head, she added, “Do you know how to carry an infant?”

“Infant, yes.  Newborn, no,” he said, carefully pulling up a chair next to the bed.  Sharon didn’t say anything as he cautiously reached forward and pulled the blanket back.

The baby’s eyes were still shut, and it – _she_ , made a few muffled whimpers as Steve saw his daughter for the first time.  Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he opened his mouth to say something, but then found that he didn’t have anything to say.  He knew that Sharon was reading him anyway, studying his reactions.  “Do you want to hold her?” she finally asked.

“If you don’t mind,” he said, glancing warily at his still calming down wife.

She shrugged.  “Just don’t move from the room,” she said as Steve reached for the bundle of blankets.  “Sanderson’s agreed to hold off on completing the birth certificate until we find a new name for her,” Sharon added quietly.  “He’s also putting her place of birth down as in New York S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, so she’ll have full American citizenship and the trail to her will be murkier than before.”

“That’s right, we’ll have to be extra careful not to lead any unwanted parties back to her,” Steve said, watching as sleepy blue eyes finally opened and stared back at him albeit unfocused.  A sense of protectiveness swelled inside of him; this was something he didn’t think he’d be able to ever see, and he knew he would work extra hard to make sure his _family_ was safe from both distant and immediate threats. 

“Will she be all right, medically-wise?” he finally asked, glancing at Sharon.

She nodded.  “The complication came from me, but the serum seems to be stabilized.  Sanderson will want to monitor it, in case there’s a relapse and the serum fails, but other than that, she’s completely healthy, even if she’s a little early.  I was thinking of going to Richmond once I can travel, stay there for a little while until she’s older or something.  New York, as much as I love it, seems to be the trouble magnet of the United States.”

“Good idea,” Steve replied absently as a tiny little fist wrapped around one of his fingers.  “Good idea.” 

The three of them sat there in the comforting silence.  For Steve though, it was as though he’d finally gotten something of his old life back: a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Something sweet.


	30. Start

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Sharon whispered against bared skin.

She rested her head on Steve’s chest as the two just lay there in silence.  It was winter now, and while it didn’t snow in Virginia, it certainly cooled down in temperature.  Steve’s heartbeat was a steady rhythm against her cheek, and she took small comfort in each beat she heard. 

“I know, I wish I didn’t have to go either, but Fury’s getting twitchy about Congress and their Superhero Registration Act legislation, and Tony’s on the fence about it.  Fury wants my input before he slams Congress down,” Steve said, turning his head to kiss her lightly on the cheek.

“First the United Nations, now Congress.  Is there _anyone_ Fury wouldn’t dare anger?” she whispered back.

Steve shrugged.  “This is Nick Fury we’re talking about.”

“Good point.”

The two were quiet for a few more minutes, Steve running a hand gently through her sweaty hair.  “Where do you stand on the issue, the registration one?” Sharon finally asked, resting her chin on clasped hands so she could see him better.

Steve shrugged.  “I haven’t decided yet, I need to know more,” he lied.  He’d read everything on it that he could find, both sides of the issues, but had wanted to hear Tony’s perspective on it first.  He wasn’t telling her that though, she’d been so preoccupied with baby Sarah, and hadn’t wanted her to stress out more because of politics.  He suspected that if Tony decided to back Congress up, the divisions could get nasty for the superhero community. 

And, as he never gave Sharon a reason to distrust him before, she bought the story with a contented little sigh and laid her head down flat on his chest again.  She would murder him once she found out, and he knew she hated it when he did this sort of thing to shield her and the baby, but the Superhero Registration Act could possibly dissolve into violence, and it wasn’t fair to Sarah at all if both of her parents were injured and/or dead. 

No, he was going to keep Sharon out as much as possible.  He knew that she and Tony were not getting along lately, and in the serious way where no amount of childhood banter could ever fix.  Sharon was scared, he could tell, but she chose to pretend that life was normal.  It was easy to do that here in Richmond despite that her father had succumbed to illness a long time ago and her mother was a living ghost.  It had been two years really since those days in Puerto Rico, two years since Sarah entered their lives.  Sarah brought back the vitality that both Sharon and Amanda both needed, and gave Steve joy. 

It was the reason, why he chose to lie to Sharon, that he didn’t know anything about the Registration Act, and that he was going to New York to take the opposition stance instead to learn more about.  By the time Sharon figured out his deception, it would be too late for her to do anything about it. 

But he was doing it to keep his family safe. 

“I love you,” he whispered into his sleeping wife’s hair, and then lightly kissed her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Something hot
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has read/kudoed/bookmarked this! 
> 
> Captain America and all related media belong to Marvel.


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